Fate's Game
by jokerwho
Summary: Professor John Smith had accepted his fate of leading a lonely life - that was, until Clara Oswald came into the equation. (Victorian AU)
1. Chapter 1

**Fate's Game**

Cambridge in the past few days had been in constant rain, so when the sun finally came out, it was a refreshing and welcoming change. Students and staff alike were enjoying the weather by walking and talking all around the university campus.

In a classroom located in the corner of the Faculty of Mathematics building, a lecture was in session.

"Now then, a subspace has three properties: it is non-empty – meaning you have a set of things, closed under addition and closed under scalar multiplication. If one of these three properties is not satisfied, then you wouldn't have a subspace," Professor John Smith explained enthusiastically to his students who were seated in front of him and listening carefully.

A student raised his hand and John nodded, signalling him to speak. "Professor – I mean, Doctor, is a subspace like a subset?"

John pondered on the question for a moment. "Well, I suppose you could think of it that way since everything that is in a subspace is in the vector space – yes, but do remember these three properties," he explained, pointing at the chalkboard. "These are essential are we progress further into the topic."

The student nodded and the Doctor began writing more details regarding the topic they were going through. He had been teaching at the university for almost 20 years and couldn't have been happier with his job. Almost everything about it was fantastic – the students were bright and eager to learn, something he greatly appreciated and he got along well with his colleagues.

Before moving to Cambridge, he had worked in a smaller university shortly after completing his thesis on algebraic logic. However, personal reasons had caused him to move out of the town and look for a job else where.

The Doctor was sure that it was just pure luck that a faculty member had fallen ill and needed someone to fill in his position as soon as possible. He took the opportunity and impressed the head of the college up to the point where he offered him a permanent job as lecturer.

And now here he was, 20 years later, giving a talk on Vector Spaces to a class that consisted of about 10 students. The lecture ended an hour later and John gathered his personal belongings before leaving the classroom, heading back to his office to prepare for his final lecture for the day that starts just an hour after lunch.

The weekend was drawing closer and he was looking forward to seeing his good friend, Lord Lethbridge-Stewart who had invited him to dinner with his family. He hadn't seen him for over two years so it would be nice to see how things are.

The Doctor wasn't one that was known for being very social but sometimes, his lonely life and empty home got the better of him and so he accepted the invitation. Usually, he would spend the weekend in his home, working on his research or reading, rarely leaving his study. On some occasions, he would forget about sleep and food, too engrossed in his work. It was a habit he needed to control or it would just take a toll on his health. He wasn't keen on spending the weekend in London but he supposed it wouldn't be all too bad.

As soon as his final lecture for the day concluded, John went straight home and began packing for his trip. He had no idea why he was feeling keen all of a sudden. Maybe he was just glad to finally be out of his house for a reason other than going to work?

It's not that he hated his home. No, he loved it. It may look a bit small from the outside but on the inside, it gave off the impression that there was more space.

Morning came by quickly and before the Doctor knew it, he was on board the train to London. Since the journey was two hours long, he decided to pass the time by reading and occasionally enjoying the view of the countryside.

It reminded him of his youth. The Doctor came from a wealthy Scottish family but he had no interest in the family business whatsoever. It irked his father that he wanted nothing to do with it. He could still remember the look on his father's face as he told him he wished to become a professor and leave the business in the hands of someone else.

The decision had caused him to be cut off from the will – not that he minded. His salary as a professor was good enough and he still had a large sum of money he inherited from his late grandfather. Sure, he could have been filthy rich but to slave away hours after hours doing something he had no passion in was just plain stupid.

The Doctor was snapped out of his thoughts when the train finally docked into a platform at King's Cross. Putting his hat back on, he grabbed his suitcase and left the first class coach.

London, or at least the train station seemed to be a bit crowded. Then again, it is the weekend. Nothing to be too surprised about.

As he was heading towards the exit, he bumped into a woman, causing her to drop her suitcase.

"Sorry," both said in unison.

John immediately bent down to pick it up.

He had assumed they would go about their business after the small accident. Having his mouth agape and staring such at a beautiful, yet round face were two things he did not anticipate.

He was still holding her suitcase with one hand, speechless.

The woman had puzzled look on her face. "My suitcase, sir, if you intend to give it back."

"Oh yes, here you are."

She smiled at him. "Thank you," and with that, she disappeared into the crowd.

The Doctor was still standing in the centre, awestruck by the woman he had bumped into. He couldn't remember the last time he felt as if, well, he wasn't quite sure what he was feeling at the moment. His palms were sweaty, stomach acting funnily and his heart beating rapidly.

No. Not now. He needed to check into the hotel. Now is not the time to be thinking about the woman whom he had just had a one minute interaction with.

"Get a grip, John," he muttered to himself as he continued to walk past people. "It's probably because you haven't been with a woman for ages," he reasoned.

Right. He needed to get back on track. Check in and prepare for dinner. Simple as that.

And that's exactly what he did once he stepped into the hotel.

"John Smith," he said to the concierge.

He smiled at the Doctor. "Professor Smith, we've been expecting you. Lord Lethbridge has upgraded your room to a suite."

Of course he would do that. Lethbridge owned the hotel. Nothing much has changed with his old friend it would seem.

Once the Doctor was settled in, his thoughts wandered back to his encounter with the woman at the train station.

"You're over fifty and yet, here you are acting like a typical teenager," he murmured to himself, shaking his head. "Get over it, John."

The Doctor brushed away any thoughts of her from his mind. She was just another random woman in London. Hardly any chance of seeing her again… or so he thought.


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor had assumed that when he was invited to have dinner with Lord Lethbridge-Stewart and his family, there would be other guests but he was wrong as he got out of the carriage.

Another thing that he noticed was that while the mansion still looked the same, there was something different about. It just seemed livelier. It hadn't been like this since Alistair's wife died.

He knocked on the door and waited for a few seconds before the polished wooden doors swung open. A butler greeted him. "Welcome to Lethbridge Mansion, Professor Smith."

"Thank you," John said and stepped inside before taking off his hat and coat. Handing them over to the butler, he took a good look of the hallway. "The place seems a bit different."

"Yes, ever since Lord Lethbridge hired the new governess, Miss Oswald, home seems to be more like… home," the butler explained with a smile. "Lord Lethbridge is in his study. Right this way, sir."

He followed the servant, passing by the several rooms before they stopped in front of one that had one door slightly opened. The butler knocked once. "Sir, Professor Smith has arrived."

Alistair looked up from his paperwork. "He's here already?" He stood up, beckoning for the Doctor to come in.

"My God, Doctor! How long has it been?" he asked as he shook hands with John. "Please, have a seat."

"A little over three years, I think," he replied, sitting down on a leathered chair.

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "That long? What have you been up to, old friend? Aside from that new book you've recently published, of course!"

The Doctor chuckled. "Not much aside from teaching and doing research. Same old, same old – just the Doctor doing his thing."

The butler came back moments later, a tray in his hands.

"Tea, Professor?"

"Yes, please."

Taking a sip of his drink, the Doctor saw a portrait of Lord Lethbridge and his children, Kate and Mariama. "So, how are your children?"

Alistair smiled, setting his cup of tea aside. "They're fine. Kate is doing very well in school and Mariama, well, you know how he is. I had to hire five new governesses in the past two years because he kept pulling antics on them. The previous governess, Miss Noble, only lasted a month after Mariama placed a frog under her pillow."

John raised an eyebrow. "And what of the new governess? Still another one of Mariama's victims?"

Lord Lethbridge's son however, had his antics put to a sudden halt when the new governess was hired. He was quite surprised that his son was no longer a troublemaker.

The boy's mistake was underestimating his new governess, thinking she was a weak-hearted woman who couldn't stand anything that looked frightening.

"Surprisingly, no," Lord Lethbridge replied, chuckling. "It seems that Mariama has met his match. No more antics in the house."

"Your new governess must be a miracle worker, then."

Indeed she is. Ever since she was hired four months ago, things in the household had greatly improved, including Alistair's relationship with his children. When Miss Noble had quit her job, she recommended Lord Lethbridge to look for Clara Oswald, citing that she would be a wonderful governess. He took her advice and hired Clara.

"Yes, but she only works here on Friday, Saturday, Sunday and occasionally, Monday. Miss Oswald works as a governess for another family during the weekdays," he explained.

The Doctor took another sip of his tea. "That's a bit strange isn't it?"

"That's what I thought at first but I suppose she's just looking for some extra income. Anyway, she should be here any moment now. Miss Oswald took a week off to see her sick grandmother in Blackpool. I'm sure Kate and Mariama will be excited to see her again, aside from you, of course," Alistair said with a smirk.

Unknown to anybody but a few, Clara Oswald is not only a governess for the Lethbridge-Stewart children, but she is also a barmaid. The flat where she was renting is owned by her landlord who just so happened to run a bar on the ground floor. So, in order to pay for her rent, Clara worked as a barmaid on the weekdays.

In fact, she was just getting ready to leave her flat after finishing her shift for the day.

"You seem to be in a hurry, Clara," her landlord said as she briskly walked pass him down the stairs. A small bag in her right hand. "Everything alright?"

She merely smiled at him. "Yes, everything's fine. I'm just late for something. See you later!"

The landlord shook his head, a smile on his lips. What on earth is that young lady up to?

In reality, Clara was late for dinner. Her employer, Lord Lethbridge had told her that the family would be having dinner with an old friend, Professor John Smith. He had, of course, told her she was more than welcome to join them and she agreed. But here she is now, in a carriage, on her way to the Lethbridge mansion in her barmaid attire. Taking out some clothes from the bag, Clara quickly changed.

Ten minutes later, the carriage stopped in front of the mansion. Clara dashed out and burst through the front doors. She was definitely late alright. They were probably about to have dinner already.

"Miss Oswald!" Mariama exclaimed, as he saw her dashing through the hallway. His 13 year old sister following him down the stairs.

"Why is she running?" Kate asked, puzzled as to why her governess was in such a hurry.

As the Doctor and Lord Lethbridge were discussing about their younger days at university, a knock was heard.

"See, I told you, she got here in the nick of time – come in!"

Clara stepped inside, slightly out of breath from all the running. This had caused Alistair to give her a confused look. The Doctor was calmly sipping his tea, his back facing her.

"Miss Oswald, is… are you alright?" he asked.

She took a deep breath and said, "Fine. It is just that I thought I was an hour late. It seems that the clock in my flat needs to be fixed."

Her employer mere laughed. "It's alright, Miss Oswald. I wouldn't mind your tardiness that much. Anyway, I haven't introduced the both of you, yet. Doctor, meet Miss Oswald, she is the governess I've been talking about."

The Doctor turned around, expecting to see an unfamiliar face. The smile on his lips disappeared as he saw the face of the woman who was standing in the middle of the room. He knew who she was. There was no doubt about it. The woman, Miss Oswald, was none other than the woman whom he had bumped into at the train station.

"Miss Oswald, this is Professor John Smith."

Clara was just as surprised when the man sitting in front of Lord Lethbridge stood up and turned around. Now that he had taken his coat and hat off, she could see him a lot clearer than at King's Cross. A lot skinnier than she had thought but not unattractive.

They stared at each other in shock before John approached her and took her hand, kissing it. "It's finally nice to meet you, Miss Oswald. Lord Lethbridge was talking about how much of a wonderful governess you are," he spoke, giving her a shy smile.

She returned his smile and said, "Thank you, Professor Smith. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Please, call me Doctor."

They stared at each other for what seemed like eternity before Lord Lethbridge coughed, breaking the spell. The Doctor let go of Clara's hand.

"Dinner, shall we? I'm sure everyone is famished," he said, a smirk plastered on his face. He wasn't blind. He knew something was up between the two. Whatever it was, it would seem like they've met before.

"Right, dinner, after you, Miss Oswald."

The Doctor couldn't believe it. Just when he thought he had bumped into some random stranger who he was sure would never meet again, that person turned out to be working for his long time friend.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner was a relaxing affair. The Lethbridge-Stewart children were of course, elated to see the Doctor again and he was quite surprised over how much they have grown. They only talked about general things, nothing too specific but through out the ordeal, the Doctor couldn't help but glance at Clara, noticing how much the children adore her, telling her stories about their activities while she was away.

There was even a point when she caught him looking at her and he quickly glanced in the other direction. This had caused Clara to smile before she gave her full attention away to Kate and Mariama.

Once dinner was over, the children dragged Clara away with them, to show her their work. The Doctor and Lord Lethbridge decided to have another round of tea in the living room.

"I can see why you call Miss Oswald a miracle worker."

Alistair merely nodded with a smirk. "Is that the only thing you want to say, Doctor?"

The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Come now, I'm not blind, Doctor."

John knew his friend was on to him. Was it that obvious he was smitten with the governess? He coughed, clearing his throat and said, "I haven't had the faintest idea of what you're on about."

Alistair rolled his eyes. "Need I point out the elephant in the room?"

"There's no elephant in the room. Wouldn't be able to fit through the entrance," the Doctor deadpanned, sipping his drink.

Lord Lethbridge merely shook his head. "Here we go again. Fine, allow me to become Captain Obvious. You and Miss Oswald appear to have met before."

John's face was neutral, trying to make it seem as if it wasn't a big of a deal. "Yes, I bumped into her at the train station earlier today. She dropped her suitcase so I picked it up for her."

His friend said nothing as if he was waiting for him to say more. "And that's it?"

"Yes. Will you stop pestering me now?"

"Oh, I'm just pulling your leg, Doctor!" Alistair exclaimed. "No need to be defensive."

When Clara Oswald had bumped into the Doctor at the train station, she didn't think much from it aside from the fact that the man looked more like a magician than a professor with the coat he was wearing.

She was also a bit taken back when he stared at her as if she grew a second head. He looked like an owl when his eyes were open wide. She could remember it clearly. What a strange man.

"Miss Oswald," she heard Kate call her name, snapping her out of her daydream.

Clara blinked a couple of times. "Yes, Kate?"

"Are you fine, Miss?" the girl asked, setting her book aside.

"Absolutely."

Mariama then cut in. "What Kate meant was, why were you staring at the Doctor? She counted five times. I'd say six."

"Mariama!" Kate snapped at her younger brother but he responded by sticking out his tongue.

The Lethbridge-Stewart children were indeed sharp-eyed.

"I wasn't… staring…"

The two children gave an unconvinced look. Four months of working with the family and they could see right through her.

"Anyway, how is your grandmother, Miss Oswald?" Kate asked, changing the subject.

Now this was a topic Clara didn't mind talking about. She had left London to visit her grandmother who had fallen ill. Needless to say, when she saw her grandmother, she looked pale and unwell but she was assured by her it was nothing more than a fever that would eventually pass.

Clara's father was over the moon when she returned home. The same can't be said for her step-mother, though. They didn't get along very well but for the sake of her father, she tried to at least be polite. By the end of her stay, her grandmother had recovered from her fever, insisting that she should return to London and focus on her work and not worry about her.

"She has fully recovered from her fever, Kate. Thank you for asking," the governess replied. "Now then, what do you want to do for the rest of the evening? It's almost bedtime."

Kate and Mariama exchanged looks. "Can you tell us the story about the man on the cloud?"

She had promised them that before leaving for Blackpool, when she returned, she would tell them the story of a man who lived in a blue box in the clouds. It was just an idea that popped in her head after seeing how upset the children looked.

"And do your silly voices!" the youngest Lethbridge-Stewart child added.

Both were giggling as Clara gave them a mischievous look. She cleared her throat, looked around and said, "'ello mates."

This had caused the children to giggle even more.

"Right, so, the man on the cloud," Clara began. "Now, the story goes that once upon a time, a man lived high up in the clouds in a big blue box."

The ten year old boy decided to cut in. "Why did he live in a blue box? Why not a house?"

"I'll get to that part later on," Clara said and winked. "He decided to live there after he lost his dear friends, isolating himself away from society, no longer able to see the joys of life."

Kate and Mariama were listening intently to her story. The boy was slowly falling asleep, attempting to keep his eyes open but constantly closing them.

"And then, one day, he made the decision to have a stroll around town…. And Mariama's asleep."

Kate rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Wonderful. I was just starting to get into the story."

"There's always tomorrow night, right?"

"I suppose so," Kate sighed.

Back downstairs, the two men were still chatting when the Doctor pulled out his pocket watch to check the time. "I think I should get going. It's late."

"Fair enough. Let me show you to the door. Thank you for having dinner with us, Doctor."

"Thank you for inviting me, Alistair. It's nice seeing you and your children."

"And obviously, Miss Oswald," Lord Lethbridge added, his facial expression neutral.

John chuckled before grabbing his coat and hat. "I can see why your children are so full of imagination."

"Ah, yes, that reminds me. I will be hosting a birthday celebration for Kate's 14th birthday two weeks from now. You're invited to the party."

The Doctor nodded. "I'll be sure to add that to my diary," he said and stepped outside where a carriage was waiting a few feet away.

"Do have a safe journey back to Cambridge, Doctor."

"Thank you, see you in two weeks then."

Now that his short weekend vacation was over, the Doctor could finally work on more important things. Rumour has it that the current vice-chancellor will be retiring soon and has named the Doctor as his successor.

He wasn't entirely sure about the idea of becoming vice-chancellor, seeing that the reason he decided to enter the teaching world was to help out people and share his passion for Mathematics. Becoming the successor would mean less teaching and more managing.

The current vice-chancellor had of course, asked his opinion regarding the university and what his plans for the future was if he did end up becoming the head of the university. He seemed to agree with his views.

The Doctor, however, was still unsure about the whole idea. He had thought that his colleague, Professor Rassilon would most likely become vice-chancellor but the current one didn't agree, stating that the man wouldn't be able to improve the university.

"Things are going to get interesting," John muttered to himself as the carriage stopped in front of the hotel.

He could worry about those things once he was back in Cambridge. For now, he was in London. The future of his job could wait at home.


	4. Chapter 4

London was busy on Monday morning. People were going about their day as most of them were on their way to work. A carriage pulled over in front of a pub called 'Coal Hill'.

Clara Oswald stepped outside with the bag she had with her the previous week. Governess by the weekend and barmaid by the weekday.

Stepping inside the pub, her landlord who was cleaning the counter, also named John Smith, greeted her. "Good morning, Clara. How was the weekend?"

"It was fine, thanks for asking, John. Did you have a busy night last night?" she replied, looking around the room.

"You know how it is. A typical busy Sunday," he said as Clara walked up the stairs to her flat. "Rose insisted on helping but I told her to go and rest. I don't want her to do too much with her being pregnant and all."

Clara giggled. "Did she take it well, you telling her off?"

Her landlord gave her a look that said otherwise.

She had been renting from him and his wife, Rose Tyler for about four years now. They were very understanding when she wasn't able to pay her rent on time and even offered her a job as a barmaid, although the pay wasn't that big, hence the reason why she took the job as governess. Clara couldn't have asked for a nicer landlord.

Entering her small flat, she dumped her belongings on the bed. It would seem like she had a lot of work to do today. The pub was a mess downstairs. However, her train of thought strayed to a certain professor. Kate's birthday celebration was coming up soon. Did Lord Lethbridge invite the Doctor? She had hoped he did. Clara wanted to see him again.

John's Monday morning wasn't all that bad either. It was going quite well. He was currently giving a lecture to a group of second year students.

"We will be using the trigonometric basis to make an approximation between minus pi and pi. The great thing about Fourier series is that you can use it to model periodic waves," the Doctor explained, writing down notes on the chalkboard. "Before we dive in," he joked but only a few smiled at his terrible attempt at humour. "We'll have a look at the orthogonal basis, and this is it," he then pointed at an array of sines and cosines.

"If we were to take any two of these, and get the inner product to equal to zero, we'd have an orthogonal basis. So, would anyone like to tell me how I can get zero from this inner product of sine and cosine here?"

One of the students, a young man with floppy hair and long chin raised his hand. John has seen him in almost all of his lectures before. The boy was always smiling. What was his name? Oh, that's right, John too.

"Yes, John."

"Wouldn't you have to use one of the trigonometric identities?" the student said, unsure if his answer was right.

The Doctor nodded. "That's exactly what I'm about to do."

The student, John, smiled, happy that he got the right answer.

The week seemed to have passed quickly and before the Doctor knew it, he was on his way to London again. He had spent an hour in town a few days ago, looking for a gift for Kate. Finding a present for a 14 year old was harder than it seemed. He knew she has a habit of reading and so, he bought a collection of Jane Austen novels for her to read.

And now here he was at the hotel, getting ready for the party, looking in the mirror, making sure he looked presentable. He wasn't a fan of socialising with people, preferring the company of books instead but, Kate and Mariama adored the Doctor. He was like an uncle to them and didn't want to let them down. Besides, he was sure that Miss Oswald would be present.

"What chance do you have of winning her heart? You're old – she's young," he told himself, still looking in the mirror. "But, I suppose there's no harm in trying, right?"

Fixing his coat, he took one last look in the mirror before reaching for Kate's present and his hat. The poor driver was probably wondering why he was taking so long.

Arriving at the Lethbridge mansion, John noted how even more lively the house seemed. Guests were coming in and out of the building. Stepping inside, he gave his coat and hat to the butler before searching for the birthday girl. There were lots of children running around the house and a few nearly bumped into him.

Most of the guests consisted of Kate's friends and their parents but Mariama and Alistair had invited a few of their own.

"It's quite lively tonight, isn't it?" a voice asked, from behind.

John could easily recognize who it was. He turned around and nearly dropped Kate's present. Clara was in an elegant red dress that made her look even more stunning than she already was. "Miss Oswald," he said and kissed her hand. He needed to get to grips.

"I'm guessing you're looking for the birthday girl. She's in the ballroom room. They're about to present the cake," she explained, and saw the huge present that was neatly wrapped he was holding. "You can place the present on the table there, Doctor," Clara then pointed at a table that was stacked with other wrapped gifts.

"Right, thank you," he then strode over to the table before returning to her.

Truth to be told, John wasn't entirely sure what he should say or do. He was 51 and yet here he is now, acting as if he was 15 and had never met a girl before.

Clara decided to break the silence, noticing that he was acting awkwardly.

"So, why do they call you the Doctor?"

He gave out a nervous smile. "Well, you see, it was actually a nickname given to me by my friends back in university. They kept calling me Doctor because of how I tend to constantly take care of injured small animals like birds and cats – mostly birds, hence the nickname."

"Ah, that makes a lot of sense. More of a nickname than a title."

At that moment, one of the maids passed them, pushing a tray that carried a huge cake.

"Shall we?" Clara asked.

He gave her a smile. "After you, Miss Oswald."

"Clara."

He raised a brow. "I'm sorry?"

"There is no need for formalities. Call me Clara."

"Very well then, Clara," the way the Doctor pronounced her name with his Scottish accent made her stomach flip. "After you."

Both then entered the dining room where all the guests were gathered. Kate stood in front of the cake as a maid lit all 14 candles.

After everyone had their cake, people started dancing in the ballroom. The Doctor stood by himself in one corner.

"Not a fan of mingling with people, are you?" Clara asked, standing beside him.

He cleared his throat. "No, I'm not used to… um…" he was trying to find the right words to tell her he wasn't a people person but couldn't think of any.

"Would you care for a dance?"

John felt as if his eyeballs would pop out of his eye sockets but remained calm. "If you want to…"

She smiled at him and grabbed his hand, dragging him to the centre of the room. From the corner of his eye, the Doctor could see Lord Lethbridge with a smug look on his face.

He decided to ignore it all and focus on the woman in front of him.

"Are you enjoying your job as governess?" he asked since that was the first thing that popped into his mind.

"Very much. Kate and Mariama are wonderful."

He spun her around. "That's nice," he murmured and placed his hand back on her waist.

It would seem the evening just got even better. Dancing with Clara was not something he had expected at all. For the first time in a while, he didn't mind being in a crowded room. He actually felt happy.

However, it's all not fun and games back in Cambridge. In the university town, there is a restaurant frequented by the upper and middle class called 'Gallifrey'. The restaurant was known for serving some of the best English cuisine dishes in all of England. It was quiet and made privacy its priority which is why it was the ideal place for two people to meet face to face.

A man was seated in the corner of the restaurant. He was writing down notes in his notebook when a woman took a seat opposite of him.

"Would you care for some tea, or perhaps a snack?"

The woman said nothing, waiting for him to speak.

He set down his pencil and closed his notebook. "Very well then. I suppose we can crack on."

"There are rumours circulating around the university that the likely successor for the position of vice-chancellor has plans of abolishing one of the university's entry requirements. He wants to allow women to study at Cambridge. Now, that would put the university's reputation at risk and we cannot afford that."

"So where do I come in?" asked the woman in a bored tone, coupled with a Scottish accent.

"I want you to send a couple of your men and deliver him a… message, shall we say?"

"When?" she asked, taking one of his macaroons.

The man set his tea aside. "There is a Mathematics conference next month, in London. This so called person, Professor John Smith, would usually lodge at the Lethbridge Green Park hotel. I'm sure you can manage the rest."

The woman nodded and rose from her seat.

"Finish the job and you will be rewarded."

"Consider it done, Professor Rassilon."

* * *

Were you able to spot the Tenth and Eleventh Doctor? ;)


	5. Chapter 5

If there was one word he could use to describe his evening at Lord Lethbridge's daughter's birthday party, it would be young. He didn't know why but Clara seemed to have this sort of effect on him and he didn't mind it at all.

After they had danced, Clara had suggested taking a stroll around the lake outside to get some fresh air. The Doctor agreed to keep her company.

"You're a very good dancer, Clara," he commented, walking beside her at a steady pace. He was so used to walking fast that slowing down was a bit of a challenge.

"Thanks, my late mother taught me how to dance at a young age," she replied, glancing at the lake.

The Doctor stopped in his tracks. "I'm sorry," he apologised.

"It's fine, Doctor. My mum passed away back when I was twelve. It has been a while since then."

Clara stopped at the far end of the lake before sitting on the bench. John sat next to her.

"Do you come here often?" he asked.

"Sometimes, it's really quiet and calm."

While the Doctor may look calm and collected on the outside, he was actually kicking himself mentally. He didn't know how to push the conversation forward. What else could they talk about? The weather? No. It was dark. Her job? He asked her that when they danced. What else could they talk about?

"Are you always this quiet? I don't mean to be rude," she added quickly. "You don't talk much, do you?"

"No," he cleared his throat, feeling a lump. "I… um… don't talk that much."

"And this is coming from a man who has been giving lectures for how long?" Clara teased him, causing him to laugh.

"A little over 22 years."

Her eyes widened. She didn't expect him to be teaching for that long. "Oh, wow. That's incredible. What is it like teaching at Cambridge?"

A smile played on his lips. "Well, I teach Maths, so it's fairly straightforward. My classes are either an hour or two long that consist of talking and discussing about a certain topic such as Vector Spaces or Vector Calculus or Logic – topics that I'm familiar with, really."

"You make it sound as if it's your dream job," she couldn't quite understand what the topics were about but she was still amazed. The man was clearly a genius.

"It is," the Doctor confirmed. "I've been wanting to teach ever since I finished my doctorate."

"Maybe you could teach me what a vector is one day," she suggested in a joking manner.

"I'd love to," he said sincerely.

Silence greeted them once more. Not to mention that it was getting colder by the minute.

"Are you cold?" he asked, realizing that Clara was slightly shivering. How long had she been shivering? Why didn't he notice it sooner?

"Just a bit," He immediately took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around her. "Thank you, do you want to go inside?"

"That's a good idea."

By the time the Doctor and Clara had returned from their evening stroll, the guests had already left and the maids were cleaning up the mansion.

He took out his pocket watch and checked the time. Almost 9 PM.

"I think it is time for me to leave. Thank you for the wonderful evening, Clara Oswald."

"Thank you for letting me borrow your jacket, Doctor," she replied and handed the black suit jacket back to him. She got up on her toes and kissed his cheek. "It was very kind of you."

Her action had caused him to blush, making him look down at the floor. "It's fine. Any gentleman would have done the same," he reasoned.

"Ah, Doctor! There you are! I've been looking every where for you!" Lord Lethbridge said. "Why is your face all red like a tomato?"

"It's not. Anyway, I'm just about to leave."

"Yes, well, Kate had asked me to thank you for the novels. She loves them. Started reading them already."

The Doctor chuckled. "It's not a big deal. I know how much she loves to read. Thank you for inviting me, by the way. If you'll excuse me, I must get going. Miss Oswald," he said and reached for her hand before kissing it, never breaking eye contact.

Lord Lethbridge grimaced. How much of an idiot did the Doctor think he was?

"Miss Oswald, would you be so kind as to show the Doctor out? I have a few… errands to run," Alistair requested and left the room, giving her no chance to argue.

"It is fine, Clara, I can show my way out."

"I don't mind. The front door is only two rooms away," she insisted.

Walking past the ballroom, the Doctor made the impulse decision to speak. "I will be in London next month to attend a conference. Is there a chance I can see you?"

Clara nearly paled. Did he mean see her outside of work? "When exactly?"

"The conference is on the 23rd and it falls on a Tuesday but I will be in London for two nights," he replied, hoping that she would say yes. Surely enough she would have time for other activities than working as a governess.

The issue was, she had forgotten that the Doctor had no clue that she was also a barmaid who had the full shift on that particular day. "I… I'm not sure since I'll be working all day long."

They reached the front entrance. The Doctor put on his coat and hat. "Another time, then," he tried not to sound disappointed. He understood that her work required her to be committed.

John reached Clara's hand once more and kissed it. "I suppose I'll see you when I see you."

"And when is that?" she asked, amused.

"When I see you. Good night, Clara."

Without another word, he left.

Once the Doctor was gone, she let out a frustrated sigh. She wanted to spend time with him but she was terrified of what he would think of her if he found out about her other job. Maybe she could tell him. Maybe he would be open minded about the idea or maybe he would see her as nothing more than a poor peasant.

Surely enough, the first day of the conference arrived and the Doctor was back in London. His trip to the capital had been more frequent since the last month but this time, he was strictly on business as he will be presenting a research paper. Nothing he wasn't used to. He had done it countless times before.

However, he couldn't help but feel as if he was being followed after the conference had ended. It was close to 5 PM when everything had been wrapped up. The Doctor had decided to have a walk around town since it wasn't like he could do much in his hotel room. Maybe he should have gone back to Cambridge on the same day. The university had allowed him to take two days off after the conference, knowing how stressful and tiring it can be, hence the reason why he didn't go home immediately.

John had thought he would be able to take Clara out for dinner at a nice restaurant but alas, she was busy with work.

Passing by a few bystanders, he glanced at the large display glass of a shop and caught sight of a bulky man following him. At a a fruit stall up ahead, he saw a walking stick leaning against the cart and reached for it. He knew how this was going to go down.

The Doctor took a left into an alleyway and saw two other men approaching from the other side. He was cornered. "Fantastic, just fantastic," he sighed as the three men were rolling up their sleeves.

The tallest of the bunch, who was probably around 6'3 said, "Rassilon sends his regards."

* * *

Looks like the Doctor is in trouble. *laughs in Evil*


	6. Chapter 6

"Alright, boys!" a woman exclaimed as she entered a worn out looking room. "You're about to go on an adventure."

There were three men dressed in suits seated next to each other by a round table.

"The target is a Professor John Smith but people call him the Doctor," she explained, placing her umbrella against the table. "He will be attending a conference in London next week. The venue is to be held at St James Hotel but the Doctor tends to lodge at Lethbridge Green Park since it's owned by a friend of his."

"What do we do?" asked one of the men.

She grinned, causing all three to feel slightly terrified before she took out a compact mirror and lipstick. "Patience is key, Henry," she said while applying the lipstick. "I want you to follow him and once you've cornered the man, rough him up a bit – tell him Rassilon says hi or something – be creative!"

"Once you've done your job, head back here and you'll get your pay!" she chimed, her Scottish accent thicker than before. She placed a small suitcase on the table. "You're obviously going to need some money for the trip. This should be adequate."

The man in the middle took the suitcase, nodding to her. "We will leave immediately."

"Good. Any questions?" she asked but none of her henchmen said a word or even bothered to move. She sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically. "What are you waiting for? Christmas?! Go!"

The three men immediately got up and left the room, leaving Missy all by herself.

Now here the three men were, in London, where they have successfully cornered their target in an alleyway.

The Doctor had two options. Fight or flight. If he ran, the chances of him escaping were slim but if he fought back, then he might be able to knock all three out cold with some extra effort for the bulky man. He knew which option he had to choose.

"Now, before we start our little tango, I just have one question," the Doctor said, leaning on the walking stick. "Three pudding brains were in a carriage. Who's driving? The police officer," he said and cringed at his own terrible joke before he punched the shorter of the man to his left, causing him to stagger back. Avoiding the blows coming from both men, the Doctor used his walking stick to poke the tallest man in the stomach, giving him time to grab the other man's hand and flipping him over.

The tallest then charged at him and John immediately countered the attack by tripping his right leg and the man's head hit a brick wall. The shortest, who he had punched earlier produced a knife from his jacket pocket and tried to slice him but he quickly avoided the attacks with the walking stick.

Giving the man a good kick to his chest, the Doctor grabbed the man by his right shoulder before kicking the back of his knee, causing him to scream in pain before being knocked out cold with a single powerful punch to the face.

That's one down. Two more to go. He needed to knock out the smaller henchman before going for the big guy as he was still lying on the ground, winded.

The Doctor narrowly avoided being punched in the face before used the walking stick to his advantage again to hit the man on the side of his head, breaking it in half but also, knocking him out for good.

Two down.

Unfortunately, while he was busy finishing off the second guy, the bulky man sneaked up behind before giving the Doctor a powerful punch in the face and kneeing him in the stomach. He lay winded on the ground, clearly in pain. He placed a hand on his burning ribs as the man towered over him ready to finish the job when suddenly, someone threw eggs at him.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?!" a familiar voice snapped.

John recognized the voice and panic began creeping up in his head. Clara. No. What was she doing here?

With the bulky man distracted as he slowly approached her, the Doctor stood up and whistled. "I'm over here, you big stupid giant," he provoked.

It was now or never. He charged towards him and punched him as hard as he could, chipping a couple of the man's teeth in the process as he slowly fell to the ground.

"Doctor!" she exclaimed, placing a tender hand on his left cheek. He had a swollen left eye but that was the only thing she could clearly see in the dimly lit alleyway aside from a few scratches.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, panting slightly and that was when he noticed her attire was slightly different. She wore what looked like a barmaid outfit. There was even a bag of groceries lying on the ground.

"I'm the one who should be asking you that!" she snapped before her tone softened. "Oh God, Doctor, why were they after you? I saw you walk into the alleyway with a man following."

They heard the sound of feet shuffling from one end of the alley. Clara immediately grabbed his hand, her groceries and said, "Come with me."

They dashed off in a hurry, not wanting to get into another fight. The Doctor wouldn't be able to withstand another beating. As they were running, he spoke in a joking manner. "So which one is it? Barmaid or governess?"

Clara glared at him as they ran into another alley. "You're asking that now?!"

"Well, I can't ask you that question once we've been killed."

"Doctor! Now is not the time to be joking!"

They finally stopped running and stood in front of the back of entrance of a pub by the looks of it. Clara produced a key and unlocked the door before shoving him inside and locking the door once more.

They held their breath as they waited for a couple of men to pass. Once they did, she let out a sigh of relief and looked at the Doctor. She could hear people and music playing in the pub from the closed door but her attention was on the man who was leaning against the wall, looking worn out and in pain.

"Let's take you upstairs," she suggested and guided him up the stairs. He was staggering a bit and so, she placed an arm around him before guiding him to her flat. She quickly brought him inside, fearing that someone might catch her.

Gently, the Doctor leaned against the headboard of the bed, his breathing had slowed down but he was still clearly in a lot of pain. She sat next to him on the edge of the small bed and said, "Doctor, are you injured anywhere else? Would you like me to get you something?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Doctor," she called with a warning tone.

He cracked a smile at her. "I've been in a worse situation before."

Clara's serious demeanour did not fade away. "Stay here. I'm going to get some things."

Indeed he had been and it happened in his youth. The incident had his former flame involved. The Doctor had been wanting to propose to River Song some 21 years ago. He had met her shortly after moving into a small university town where he got his first job as a tutor. The relationship turned sour when he saw her kissing another man and fought the guy out of anger, resulting in him being hospitalised for a week. The man fared no better either. In the end, he ended his relationship with her, quit his job and moved out, searching for someplace else to live and subsequently took the job as a lecturer at Cambridge.

He grimaced at the memory before he cracked one eye opened. So this is where Clara lives. It wasn't spacious but it was small and cosy – it suited her in a way.

Meanwhile, Clara was quickly going through the kitchen, taking a bowl of hot water, a couple of cloths and a glass of water.

"Clara, is there a reason why several eggs are missing?" John asked her, searching for the missing eggs in the paper bag.

She needed to think up a lie. "I um… dropped them by accident on the way here. Sorry, John. You can cut my pay check if you want."

He shook his head, chuckling. "That's not what I meant. I'd never do that but…" he then saw all the items she was carrying. "What are you doing?"

"I slipped on my way back. Hurt my ankle," she said and started limping slightly.

"Oh, well, get some rest. Don't work yourself too hard."

Clara slowly walked up the stairs, still limping, hoping he would buy her act. She didn't know how to explain to her landlord that there was a seriously injured man in her room who she just so happened to fancy as well.

Once John was out of sight, she ran up the staircase and swung the door to her flat open before closing it with her foot. The Doctor still had his coat on but his eyes were closed. She could see sweat trailing down his face.

"Doctor," she called gently and he opened his eyes.

Placing the glass of water and bowl on the night stand, Clara gently placed a hand on his cheek. "Are you injured anywhere else?"

"Ribs," he said, gritting his teeth slightly. They were still burning and aching after being kneed.

"You need to take your shirt off."

Clara dipped a cloth into the warm water before gently cleaning the wounds on his face. He winced at the contact.

"What?" he exclaimed, face turning red.

"Your coat and shirt, you need to take them off," she repeated calmly.

The Doctor obliged by slowly taking his coat off but when it came down to his shirt, he became nervous. Slowly, he undid the buttons.

She rolled her eyes out of frustration. "Here, let me do it. There's nothing to be ashamed of, Doctor."

Suddenly, there was a knock on her door. "Clara," it was the landlord's wife, Rose. "John told me you sprained your ankle," she said before opening the door. "Are you… "

Rose was shocked by the scene she saw before her. Clara had her hands on a man's half unbuttoned shirt and his was lying on her bed but she didn't look horrified, just surprised. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'll… just go," with that, she quickly closed the door.

It would seem Clara Oswald had a lot of explaining to do.

* * *

*sorry not so sorry* At least Clara gets to play nurse, right? XD


	7. Chapter 7

As soon as the door closed, Clara and the Doctor stared at each other before breaking into a fit of laughter, finding Rose's reaction amusing.

"I bet she didn't expect to see an old man in your flat at all," the Doctor said after their laughter had died down.

"She didn't expect to see a man in my flat," Clara corrected. Her hands were still gripping his shirt and she blushed, realizing how suggestive it may have looked. She still had to check his wounds though. "Doctor…"

"It's fine," he stated and nodded, giving her permission to undo the rest of the buttons.

Clara unbuttoned his shirt and gasped when she saw the purple bruise on the left lower side of his ribs. She peeled the shirt away from his skin.

"I'm going to take a wild guess to say that it's extremely bad, isn't it?"

The Doctor glanced at his torso and saw the bruise. He furrowed his brows. It looked worse than he had thought. It was going to be a challenge for him to be able to walk back to the hotel in his current condition.

"Well, it's purple and looks bad but it should heal within a few weeks at least," she said and dipped another dried cloth into the bowl of hot water. She gently placed it on the bruise and the Doctor couldn't help but groan a bit. "I don't think anything is broken."

"Yes, I'm sure of that."

She took his left hand and placed it on the wet cloth. "Hold that for me," she ordered and reached for the other cloth she had used earlier. "Your face doesn't look bad either – only a few scratches and the black eye."

"Thanks, that's definitely what I wanted to hear," he replied sarcastically.

"If it's any consolation, I still think you're good looking, even with all the cuts and bruises."

Clara had absolutely no idea what possessed her to say those words. It would seem her mouth was starting to move on its own.

John gave her a surprised look but his eyes wandered around her flat, avoiding her as she gently nursed his sore eye. There he goes again, acting like a teenager.

"Your flat is really cosy and homey," he complimented before reaching for the glass of water with his free hand, suddenly feeling thirsty and finishing the drink in one go.

"Thank you and I'm sure you have a lot of questions going through your mind right now. I'm sorry."

Clara set the cloth on the night stand after she had cleaned the wounds on his face. The Doctor would have to live with the black eye for a while but she was happy he looked better than when she had brought him in.

He frowned when she apologised. "Why are you apologising?"

"I… don't you find it repulsing that I also work as a barmaid?"

He chuckled at her confession. No. He didn't find it repulsing and he didn't care. He would still see her as Clara Oswald, the woman who had bumped into him at King's Cross station. "Clara," he began, his Scottish accent making her stomach flip once more. "I honestly don't care. You can do whatever you like. It's your choice."

The concern on her face finally washed away and a smile played on her lips. "Thank you for being so understanding, Doctor," she said and kissed his cheek. "Get some rest."

"I will once I return to the hotel."

Her eyes widened. "What do you mean? You can't go out like this! What if they're still looking for you? No, just stay."

"Clara…" at this point, she gave him her best puppy eyes. "No. Don't do that. How do you do that? Your eyes. It's like they inflate."

"Stay."

"But-"

"You're injured. No excuses."

"Yes, boss," he muttered under his breath.

Satisfied that the Doctor finally gave in, Clara collected the bowl and glass. "Stay here. I'm just going to return these to the kitchen."

"Oh, no. I'm definitely going to fly off to Neverland now."

"Be sure not to get killed by Captain Hook," she retorted and winked at him.

Clara walked down the stairs to the kitchen and placed the bowl in the sink before refilling the glass with water. She saw John, her landlord and his wife by the counter.

"I'm guessing you found out about my plus one for the night."

John nodded. "You could have just told us, Clara. We wouldn't mind. Is everything alright, though?"

"Sorry, I wasn't sure how you would take in the news that my…" it occurred to her that she didn't know what to call the relationship she was in with the Doctor. "The Doctor was involved in a fight and I brought him here to treat his wounds."

"Oh my, how did he get into a fight? Why didn't you take him to a hospital instead?" Rose asked.

"We were being chased, which was why I brought him here," Clara answered.

"Yes, well, do tell him we wish him a speedy recovery," her landlord said. "And Clara, stop worrying. It's very obvious from your face. I'm not mad."

She nodded and headed for the stairs and let out a sigh of relief once she was in the safe comfort of her flat.

"Everything alright?" the Doctor asked, seeing that she looked slightly nervous.

"Yep, fine. I told my landlord what happened. He doesn't mind having you around and hopes you get better," she explained and sat on the edge of the bed before handing him his drink. "I'm sorry, you probably want to rest."

Clara rose from the bed but the Doctor reached for her hand.

"No, wait. Where exactly are you going to go?" she hadn't thought it through and was speechless. "Thought so, come, there's enough room on the bed."

"Doctor, are you sure, I mean, I don't want to hurt you."

He granted her a smile. "I'm sure of it," he insisted and scooted over a bit to allow her some space.

The bed was a single sized bed that was only meant for one person so when Clara lied down next to him, their bodies were pressed against one another. They were face to face after the Doctor had shifted his body a bit, the cloth discarded on the nightstand.

It took him a lot of courage to reach for her hand and intertwine it with his. He was glad that she didn't protest but instead, squeezed his hand as a reassurance.

"Hello Clara."

"Hello Doctor."

They grinned at each other like children.

Clara then raised her body a bit and blew out the candle on the nightstand before lying back down. They could still see each other from the moonlight streaming through the window.

"Doctor, can I ask you something?"

He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, humming.

"Why were those men trying to beat you up?"

He had forgotten all about those thugs while being nursed by Clara. They had said they were sent by Rassilon. He must have got wind of the rumours of him being the next vice-chancellor and the fact that he wanted to allow women to study at the university. It must have been because of that. Why else would Rassilon try to hurt him in the first place?

"I… I'll explain about it to you tomorrow. It's complicated."

Clara nodded as she understood that the Doctor was probably beyond exhausted.

"Thank you, by the way. If it wasn't for you, Clara Oswald, I would be lying on the cold hard concrete right now instead of a warm bed with you."

He then leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"I'm glad I saw you, Doctor. Thinking about what those men could have done to you terrifies me."

As a sign of reassurance, he kissed the back of her hand. "I'm here, aren't I?"

She nodded, fighting back the tears. Without hesitation, she hugged him, careful not to hurt the left side of his ribs.

"Clara?" he then heard her sobbing. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, trying his best at comforting. "It's alright," he then kissed her head gently. "It's alright."

Eventually, Clara drifted off to slumber after crying herself to the point of exhaustion. Still wrapped up in each other's arms, the Doctor finally let sleep take over him. Everything could wait until tomorrow.

* * *

Sorry about the slight angst in the end. Even I didn't expect to write that XD


	8. Chapter 8

London would usually be fairly chilly in the morning. The cold crisp air had prompted the people of the city to wear an extra layer of clothing to prevent themselves from freezing. It was around dawn but Londoners were already out and about with their day, albeit a little slower than usual thanks to the weather.

Clara Oswald noticed two things when she woke up in the morning. One, she was shielded from the cold with a duvet – she didn't remember falling asleep to begin with and two, she was pressed against something warm. It felt pleasant, especially with the current temperature and so, she snuggled closer to the warm, solid but soft thing next to her. Her brain then started working and she recalled the events that happened the previous night. The Doctor. He was sleeping next to her.

She opened her eyes and was greeted by his face, calm and relaxed. Clara was glad that she was able to convince him to stay with her, knowing that he wouldn't be able to make it to the hotel with his bruised ribs.

Speaking of bruised ribs, he had been hesitant when she asked him the reason by the attack. She couldn't help but think he was being involved in something dangerous.

She laid in his arms for a few minutes longer before deciding to take a bath. She still had work to do down at the pub, no matter how much she desired to just stay with him. Slowly, she lifted up his left arm which was draped over her body and rested it on the bed.

Clara immediately got off the bed, careful to be silent as to not wake up the Doctor and grabbed some clothing before heading for the bathroom.

Eventually, the sound of water running woke John up and he rolled over, forgetting about the bruise, causing him to yelp in pain and the aching caused him to be wide awake. He cracked his sleepy eyes open and saw that Clara was not in bed. He heard the sound of water running a lot clearer this time and realized she was in the bathroom.

He had initially thought that the incident that happened was nothing more than a dream. It got from worse to a whole lot better with Clara tending to his wounds. He cracked a smile, recalling how she had convinced him to lodge at her place by using her eyes. He still couldn't understand how she was able to do that with her eyes. They did look like they had inflated.

Slowly, the Doctor leaned against the headboard, careful as to not cause more pain before reaching for the glass of water next to him. It wasn't as painful as it was before and he wondered if would be able to walk to the hotel.

He heard the bathroom door unlock and then a second later, it swung open. Clara was dressed in a fresh new dress, her hair slightly wet. She gave him a smile when she saw he was awake.

"How are you feeling, Doctor?" Clara asked, approaching the bed.

He merely nodded. "Better than last night, that is for certain."

She sat on the edge of the bed, checking his black eye. She could see it a lot clearer, now that it was daytime. "The same can be said about your eye too."

"Thank you," he murmured and looked down at his hands. The truth was, he was still unsure about how to handle his feelings for the woman in front of him.

"Are you hungry? Would you like to eat anything? I was about to go downstairs to make breakfast. Will toast and eggs do?"

Now that she had mentioned it, he was indeed famished. "That would be nice. I'm famished."

"That makes two of us. Be right back," she said and left the room.

Once she was gone, the Doctor slowly got off the bed and used the bathroom. He might as well make himself look presentable in her company at least. He managed to reach the bathroom without much issues. While the pain was still very much making itself known, he was able to live with it.

The last thing he wanted to do was become an inconvenience towards Clara.

Downstairs, Clara Oswald was collecting the necessary supplies to make breakfast. The last time she had cooked food for someone, it was in Blackpool and for her grandmother. This time, it was the Doctor.

"You're up early today, Clara," her landlord noted as he entered the kitchen. "How's your guest?"

"He told me he was feeling better compared to last night so that is progress."

He nodded and took out some supplies. "Since you have a guest you need to take care of, all I need you to do for today is to bake the souffle and prepare the sandwiches after you're done with breakfast. I can manage the rest and Rose had insisted on helping with the dishes."

Clara gave him a concerned look. "Are you sure, John? I'm more than capable to go through full shift."

He shook his head in reply. "No, that's alright. You have a… significant other to take care of," he said and grinned at her.

Unknown to Clara, her landlord and his wife had made a bet over the type of men that would eventually woo her. Through out the four years of being her landlord, they had never seen her interested in anyone until one day, the couple made a bet over it. John had said she would eventually find a nice young man but Rose insisted that older men were Clara's type. So now, John owed his wife a trip to Brighton.

Once she had cooked the eggs and toasted several slices of bread, Clara placed everything on a tray and headed upstairs, eager to dine with the Doctor.

She opened the door and saw him emerging from the bathroom, looking presentable. His shirt was fully buttoned and his curly hair was no longer a wild mess. He looked a lot fresher too.

"Doctor, you're not supposed to be moving around too much," she scolded lightly and set the tray on the bed.

"Relax, Clara. I was just using the bathroom. I promise," he stated and flashed her a smile. "Breakfast looks good, by the way."

"I know you're probably used to something better than just toast and eggs but this is the best I can do," she explained.

He raised a brow, pulling up a chair beside her and sitting down gently. "I'll have you know that the only thing I eat at home is toast with jam and sometimes, sausages, so this is a welcoming change."

The Doctor's cooking skills could be described as mediocre at best. After living by himself for so long, it was only natural for him to acquire the necessary cooking skills and that was it.

He took a bite of the toast with eggs and smiled when the flavour dissolved in his mouth. The last time he had a nice breakfast was when his mother had cooked for him back when he was a child. After that, everything was done by the family cook. It just wasn't the same.

Clara saw how his face lit up when he took a bite of her food. She felt her heart flutter.

Suddenly, he spoke. "I will be leaving for Cambridge tomorrow morning. Would it be possible, this time, to see you again in the near future?"

"Yes, I'd like that very much," she replied immediately, causing him to grant her a shy smile.

They continued to eat their breakfast in silence, occasionally stealing glances at one another. Once they had finished their meal, the Doctor spoke once more.

"I suppose I owe you an explanation regarding what happened," he began and licked his lips. "There are rumours circulating around the university that I will be the likely successor for vice-chancellor. To be honest, I'm not sure if I am up for the job and if I do accept it, I have plans to change some of the university policies including allowing women to study there."

"Someone doesn't want you to do that," Clara concluded.

"Yes, exactly."

"What are you going to do? Do you know who did this to you?"

John nodded. "Professor Rassilon. He's very… power hungry, shall we say."

"Can't you go to the police?"

"What concrete evidence do I have to support my claims?"

He saw concern wash over her face and so he reached for her hand. "I will be fine, Clara. Don't concern yourself with me too much. I… I'll think of what to do."

She squeezed his hand. "I hope you're right, Doctor."

Back in Cambridge, Missy was about to deliver some news to Rassilon. They had agreed to meet at Gallifrey once more.

As the professor was going through the breakfast menu, a waiter approached him.

"Good morning, professor. What will it be today?"

"I'll just have the English breakfast with tea. Thank you, Thomas."

"Excellent choice, professor," the waiter said, writing down his order and collected the menu before leaving.

Rassilon was eager to obtain the latest news regarding the status of the plan that had been carried out. A few minutes later, he saw Missy enter the restaurant. She looked cross.

She took a seat opposite of him. "This so called Doctor isn't as weak as you've made him out to be," she said with an annoyed tone.

Oh, this is going to be interesting.


	9. Chapter 9

Missy was not only cross when her men reported back to her. She was furious. There were only two men who had returned from London. The remaining three were, as they said, were in 'bad shape'. Two had broken jaws and another had his right leg broken. Immobilized men meant more money and resources were needed and she hated wasting both.

If this continued on, she would have to face the Doctor and get the job done herself.

It would seem she and Professor Rassilon had greatly underestimated the Doctor.

"And what exactly happened?" the professor asked as the same waiter came back with a pot of tea. "Would you like to order anything?"

"No," Missy stated simply as she drummed her fingers on the table, waiting for the waiter to leave. Once he did, she began explaining what happened. "I sent three of my men with an additional two to be sure it went smoothly and the report that I got back was that two had their jaws broken while one, his leg."

Rassilon raised the cup of tea to his lips. "But they did deliver the message didn't they. I would say it's a job well done."

Missy frowned. "It may be all about the message for you but for me, it means more money and resources going to waste. I have other clients too."

"If this is about money, then I shall double the payment. However, that will take sometime. Obtaining funds from the university is no easy feat."

Professor Rassilon wasn't only power hungry, he was also a greedy. The man had been embezzling funds from the university ever since he was appointed as one of the board of governors two years ago. It made him richer than he could ever imagined but that also meant he needed to be careful as he was sure that Scotland Yard was onto him since two months ago.

He was no fool. He knew he was being watched, hence the reason why he had chosen an expensive restaurant to conduct his business, knowing full well that the police wouldn't have the budget to constantly monitor him in a place frequented by the upper class.

"It's not just about the money, professor. This whole operation is also time consuming. Like I said, wasted resources."

Rassilon sighed. "Yes, well, I didn't expect him to put up such a fight either. We have both underestimated him."

"Also," she added. "My boys said there was somebody else involved in the fight."

He gave her a puzzled look. "Who?"

"A woman and no, we don't have anything on her, yet."

A waiter stopped by at the table, serving the professor his breakfast.

"I shall summon you when I require your services again. The remaining payment will be sent to you in a few days," he concluded.

Missy rose from her seat and without a word, left.

Rassilon took a bite of his meal and wondered who this so called female companion was. The Doctor's lover, maybe? Or just an innocent bystander who was caught in the crossfire? It would be interesting to know once Missy is able to obtain the relevant information.

Speaking of the Doctor, he was still lodging at Coal Hill Pub as Clara insisted that his ribs still needed to be treated as he had refused to go to the hospital.

"Clara, I told you before, I am fine. My ribs do not hurt that bad anymore," he told her while unbuttoning his shirt yet again. She had insisted on checking them.

"That still doesn't mean it can't be better. Shirt. Off. Now," she ordered, setting the bowl of hot water and cloth on the nightstand. "I find it ironic that you call yourself the Doctor and hate hospitals."

"Who likes hospitals? It is boring and dull and you have to wait for hours before being treated," he explained, finally taking shirt off.

The purple bruise had turned into a greenish shade. Clara saw this as a promising thing. If he was able to heal this quickly, then the Doctor would be fully healed in less than three weeks. Ever so gently, she pressed the warm damp cloth against the bruise, causing him to wince a bit. "Sorry," she murmured.

"No big deal."

The Doctor let out a sigh as his muscles began to relax.

"How does that feel?" she questioned him.

"Fine," he replied unsure how to start a conversation with her.

Silence fell and John decided to say something – or whatever popped up in his mind.

"Have you ever been to Cambridge before?"

"No, I have never been there before. Is it a beautiful place?"

The Doctor smiled at her question. "Absolutely. Which is why the university is there I suppose. The surrounding area is very relaxing and calming – a suitable place to study."

"What about Scotland? Which part of Scotland are you from?"

"I am from Glasgow. Went to school there too."

"So how did you end up in all the way in Cambridge, Professor Smith?" Clara asked him cheekily.

She noticed he began to look uncomfortable and immediately apologised.

"No, it's fine. I… Sometimes, it's really difficult to not think about the painful memories," he said and told her the story of how he was kicked out of the house by his father shortly after getting his doctorate for not wanting to take over the family business, how he met River Song and how she ended up breaking his heart which subsequently landed him a job at Cambridge.

After he had finished his life story, Clara wanted to do nothing more than to hug him but she didn't since he was still lying on her bed with the cloth still pressed against his ribs.

"Are your parents still alive? You must miss them, surely."

John shook his head. "My mother passed away ten years ago and my father, three."

"I'm sorry."

"That's just how life works," he reasoned.

"How are your ribs now?" she asked, tossing the cloth aside.

The Doctor shifted his body on the bed. "It's… ok. Thank you once again, Clara."

"The pleasure is mine, Doctor," she replied and placed a hand on his cheek, caressing his face with her thumb. Clara felt her body moving on its own as she leaned in.

The Doctor adjusted his position, knowing full well on what was going to happen. Their faces were inches apart, eyes half closed when the magical moment was shattered by a knock on the door.

"Clara, I'm terribly sorry for bothering but John says he needs you to bake more soufflé," Rose said from the other side of the door.

Clara was disappointed by the interruption but did not complain and so she pulled away a bit, giving her and the Doctor some space. "I will be down in a minute," she replied.

The Doctor was just as crestfallen, coughing as looked down at the floor.

"I… will be back soon," she said and leaned in, kissing his cheek quickly before heading for the door. "Be a good patient, now."

He chuckled. "Yes, boss."

There was no doubt about it any longer. The Doctor would move heaven and earth if Clara had asked him to. As a matter of fact, he would be willing to go to hell even if she had told him to. He would do anything for her. The Doctor was in love again after locking his heart away for so long.


	10. Chapter 10

The Doctor had spent the night in Clara's flat once more after she had told him off, adding that she would take him to the hotel the very next day since he had to return to Cambridge. He had no choice but to agree to her terms.

If there was one thing that was prominent about Clara Oswald, then it would be that she was a control freak. The Doctor had kindly mentioned this and it had caused her to become defensive but their argument eventually ended with laughter. She apologised, explaining to him that she had to take care of herself and her family ever since her mother had died.

Clara's father worked for a large business company and the salary was more than enough for the family to survive on a monthly basis. Ever since she was a child, she had taken up the duty of doing housework after her mother passed away. Her grandmother helped out as much as she could but at her fragile age, she wasn't as strong as she used to be.

Eventually, Clara moved to London when her father remarried a woman by the name of Linda. Not being able to get along with her step-mother was one of the reasons why she had moved out.

It wasn't easy at first for her when she moved to London. Looking for a job was much more difficult than she had thought. While she was qualified as a governess after graduating from Queen's College, nobody wanted to hire her.

Clara was however, lucky to have been offered to stay with a friend of hers, Amy Pond. After a year of working in various pubs, she eventually found a place to rent, a flat on the 1st floor of Coal Hill Pub owned by John Smith and his wife, Rose Tyler.

Four years later, she got a job as governess for the Lethbridge-Stewart children, met the Doctor and here they were now, having a light meal in her flat.

"Are you sure you want to follow me all the way back to the hotel?" the Doctor asked, feeling a bit skeptical.

"Yes, I just to be sure you're fine. We have talked about this, Doctor."

"If you insist."

They finished their food in silence before heading straight to bed.

"Doctor," Clara called out his name in the dark.

He was about to drift to sleep when she spoke. "Yes?"

"Please be safe once you are in Cambridge."

He squeezed her hand gently. "I promise I will."

Eventually, morning came and the Doctor and Clara Oswald took a carriage to the hotel. After he had changed into a fresh set of clothing and packed his belongings, the couple left the hotel, heading to the train station.

Before the Doctor boarded the train, he had told her he would be back to see her again in the near future and just before they said their goodbyes, Clara wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him, causing John to become slightly rigid.

"Doctor," she said, voice muffled by his coat. "Why don't you like hugs?"

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her. "Because it's just a way to hide your face."

"Get used to it. You're going to get that a lot from me," she said after they pulled away.

They heard the final call for the train to Cambridge.

The Doctor reached for Clara's hand and kissed it as he always would. "I'll see you when I see you, Clara Oswald."

"I look forward to it. Have a safe journey, Doctor."

He smiled and winked at her before turning around and boarding the train. He was definitely going to have a word with Rassilon soon.

When the Doctor finally reached home, he went straight to bed as the week's events had taken its toll on him. He even made the decision to take the whole week off to recover properly. Sadly, the black eye was still making itself noticeable and he had no choice but to go to work come Monday morning.

John received some weird looks from the students who walked passed him on campus as he headed to his office. His foul mood did not improve even after his first lecture for the day had ended. His body was still aching. If only he could control time or maybe possess a time machine that could take him anywhere and return him to present time as it was but sadly, no such machine existed.

The Doctor let out a frustrated sigh as the pain from his ribs began aching again. He heard a knock and covered his face with one hand. Who would want to intrude him now?

"Come in."

The door swung open and Professor Rassilon stepped inside the office. He closed the door and occupied one of the two empty seats in front of the desk. He had a sarcastic smile on his face.

John tried his best not to lash out or even punch the man sitting before him.

"Can I help you, Professor Rassilon?" he said through gritted teeth as a result from the pain and anger.

Rassilon's sarcastic smile never disappeared as he spoke. "I had heard from some of our colleagues that you had a black eye. Just wanted to be sure you're in tip top shape to be teaching."

"I'm not a fool, Rassilon. Why are you really here, in my office?"

He dropped the smile and said, "Very well then. I'm sure you're intelligent enough to know why I sent those men."

"This is about the policy."

"See, you are clever. Your proposed policy is a disgrace to this great university."

The Doctor glared at Rassilon. How much of a misogynist can this man get?

"What makes you hate women so much that you wouldn't allow them to study here?"

He scoffed at the accusation. "Professor Smith, I do not hate women. I just think that women do not belong in universities. You see, a woman's job is to bear children and satisfy her husband's needs and that's it. Allowing them to enter university, let alone one as prestigious as Cambridge, will threaten the status quo and tarnish our reputation."

Rassilon then rose from his seat. "So if you are wise, you will revert your proposed policy. It's bad enough you've extinguished my chances of becoming vice-chancellor. I will not allow you to make it even worse by abolishing one of the university's entry requirements."

The Doctor stood up. "You are a fool to think that women are nothing more than objects. They are just as brilliant and as strong as us men. They deserve as much chance to get an education just like the rest of us. I believe education will change their lives for the better. I will follow through with the policy should I be elected as the next vice-chancellor."

At this point, Rassilon was fuming with rage. How dare he go against someone like him! The Doctor will pay. He will make sure of that.

"Rest assured, Doctor, if you insist on being a thorn on my side, I will destroy you," he warned calmly.

"You tried doing just that last week and failed."

"Do not tempt me."

They glared at each other. The tension rising between the two men. A fight could break out any moment but it was spared from happening when another knock resounded from the door.

One of John's students, the young man with the floppy hair, stepped in, holding several pieces of paper. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought…"

Rassilon smiled. "I was just about to leave actually," he gave the Doctor another sarcastic smile. "Doctor, I do hope you will take my word into consideration."

With that, he strode out the office.

The Doctor slumped back down on his chair. "Yes, John?"

"I'm terribly sorry for being an inconvenience, Doctor but might I trouble you with a query regarding the assignment?" the student said, showing him the paper he was holding.

"What seems to be the problem?"

Once the student had his queried answered and left, the Doctor spent the remainder of his free time thinking about what Rassilon had said.

One thing for sure is that the Doctor wasn't going to give in easily, definitely not to a pudding brain.


	11. Chapter 11

Clara returned to the pub immediately after sending off the Doctor at King's Cross. She had promised her landlord to work the full shift seeing that she had been taking care of her 'significant other' as her landlord would call him to for the past two days. Her work in the morning consisted of mopping the floors, cleaning the tables and drying the dishes.

But before that, she needed to tidy up her flat.

As she was making the bed, Clara spotted a shiny object on the nightstand. It was the Doctor's cherished pocket watch. He must have forgotten that he had taken it out when she had brought him in on that night.

It was a silver pocket watch that had a transparent window showcasing the internals of the watch. She could see the gears moving in a synchronous manner before flipping the watch on the other side to see what it looked like. There was nothing on the back except for the smooth metal finish and an engraving.

 _Do not be a Warrior – be a Doctor_

 _-Mum_

It now made sense why the Doctor carried around this pocket watch wherever he went aside from telling the time, of course. It was from his mother. Judging by how worn out the case looked, Clara was sure the pocket watch was older than 15 years old. It was still a beautiful piece, especially with the transparent window.

She was sure that the Doctor knew he had left his cherished item in her flat so there was only one sensible thing to do – return it to him in person. Besides, she had always wondered what Cambridge was like. It would seem a trip to the university town was in order. She would need to get his house address from Lord Lethbridge.

Just when she thought he would be the one to 'see her when he sees her', it would seem it's the other way around now.

Friday came by and Clara requested the Doctor's house address from her employer who had been more than happy to give her the information. He had even told her she could take the weekend off the following week in order to travel to the university town. She was looking forward to seeing him again.

However, things weren't going so great for the Doctor back in Cambridge. His second day of work following from his sudden sick leave wasn't going as smoothly as he had hoped it would. He was giving a lecture to a group of second year students but he was struggling to manage the pain. He wasn't sure if it was because he wasn't able to sleep properly or if it was due to his own fault for being so terrible at taking care of himself.

Either way, the lecture had to go on but the pain was getting worse and even the students began to notice his strange behaviour.

"Laplace's transform is the integral that goes from 0 to infinity… of… e to the minus s, t… dt," he said, panting slightly. He could see that the students looked concerned but none of them was brave enough to ask him if he was alright.

Well, that was until Floppy Hair, as the Doctor had taken to calling him since John sounded strange in his mind, asked him if he was ok. "Doctor, you look unwell. Would you like us to call for help?"

The Doctor leaned against the desk and the pain seemed to have reduced a bit. "No, that won't be necessary. I… I'm just exhausted. Unfortunately, our lecture for today will have to end early. My apologies."

Most of the students left the classroom almost immediately after they had packed their belongings but Floppy Hair lingered by the entrance. "Get well soon, sir," he said sincerely.

The Doctor nodded. "Thank you."

As soon as the classroom was deserted, the Doctor let out a sigh and placed his hand tenderly on his ribs. If Clara saw the condition he was in, she would have definitely killed him.

Collecting his personal items, the Doctor decided to head home. He didn't have any other lectures for the day but had a habit of staying in the office to prepare for the next day's lesson but it would have to wait. His health is now a priority.

John had to spend the rest of the day lounging in bed and it irritated him he wasn't able to do much aside from reading. Writing for long periods of time without a desk would only cause more discomfort and so, the only two things he could do was reading or thinking.

His thoughts drifted about the future. Will the rest of the board of governors accept his new policy or will they reject it as Rassilon had? He knew that the current vice-chancellor supported his plan and only a few of his colleagues were aware of it. They gave positive reactions too but if the board of governors did not share the same vision, then it would be difficult to implement the new plans.

The Doctor closed his eyes and exhaled before his hand wandered over to the nightstand, looking for his invaluable pocket watch but it wasn't there and then it occurred to him that he had probably left it in Clara's flat. Fantastic.

He massaged his temple. How could he have forgotten about it? The pocket watch was a gift from his mother who had given it to him after he was discharged from the hospital 21 years ago. His mother was the only one who visited him when he was hospitalised. His father, well, he was still cross with him over their differences at that time.

The Doctor could still remember how his mother had cried seeing her son in such a terrible condition. He could tell it broke her heart and she made him promise not to do anything stupid anymore. She bought the pocket watch as a reminder of that.

After the little chat Rassilon had with the Doctor, he had requested another meeting with Missy at Gallifrey. Only this time, he took extra precaution as to not get spotted by the people who were passing by the restaurant.

He waited for half an hour before she dropped by. The only difference is that instead of sitting at the same table with her client, she choose the empty one next to him.

"I take it you were able to spot the two police officers loitering outside?" he stated calmly, closing the brown notebook he carried around everywhere.

"Two in front and two at the back. Not sure how many there are in here," she corrected, eyes looking for anything that seemed out of place or suspicious.

A waiter approached her with a menu. She raised her hand as he was about to hand it to her. "I'll have a fresh pot of tea."

"Right away, Madame."

Once the waiter left, the professor said, "What makes you think they are undercover?"

"Take a closer look at their body language – how they walk. Police officers tend to walk in a systematic order. Body upright. One thing for sure is that they will do less talking and more spying."

Rassilon took a quick glance around the restaurant. There weren't that many people – probably about a dozen, excluding him and Missy. "It doesn't matter. I doubt they will be able to hear us if we keep our voices down."

The same waiter came by and presented her with a pot of tea before leaving, attending to other customers.

Missy stirred her tea after adding some sugar. "Also, my boys were able to identify the woman who was with the Doctor."

Rassilon raised the cup of tea to his lips. "Go on," he said and took a sip of the drink.

"The woman is Clara Oswald. Late 20's. Works as a barmaid at Coal Hill Pub and a governess for the Lethbridge-Stewart children."

"Lethbridge?" he muttered, pondering. "The Doctor is friends with Lord Lethbridge. He owns several upscale hotels in London."

Missy stopped stirring her drink. "So what's your point? They met thanks to Lethbridge? Big deal," she said in a bored tone.

"Yes, well, it is always useful to know," he retorted. "Anyway, I require your services once more and this time, it is a much more serious matter. Leave no evidence behind."

"What do you need?" she asked, pulling out a compact mirror, pretending to check her face when in actuality, checking out her surroundings.

"Liquidate the Doctor."

* * *

Fun fact: I accidentally wrote "Pun" instead of "Pub" at one point and for the last line, I nearly wrote "Exterminate the Doctor"

XD XD XD

Also, the pocket watch is loosely based on this: listing/94616514/pocket-watch-engraved-silver-roman?ref=market

Copy the url and paste it after etsy dot com


	12. Chapter 12

If there was one thing Missy was good at, it's killing but removing the evidence was the tricky bit. A clean assassination required lots of planning and planning meant time. She had started killing people in her late teens and the first victim was her abusive father. Her mother didn't have a clue what happened as one day, he simply 'disappeared' and the police was never able to trace the body. After her mother had died and due to desperation for survival, Missy became a contract killer.

With the amount of money she was able to generate, she was able to establish her own criminal organization.

"You do realize that when it comes to sweeping the floor, it takes a lot of time and planning and I, finish the job. It is not cheap, Professor Rassilon," Missy explained, stashing her compact mirror away.

"Money is not an issue, as I have said before, and so is time. Take however long you need. I'm in no rush."

"Fine by me," she said, smiling at Rassilon. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, professor."

Missy placed some money on the table before she rose from her chair and left the restaurant.

She had a lot of work to do.

The Doctor managed to miraculously pull through with work for the rest of the week. He didn't how he was able to even to give lectures everyday, let alone walk to the university but he did and so, when the weekend came, John was glad he could properly rest.

What he didn't expect on Saturday afternoon was a knock on his door. Placing his book on the nightstand, the Doctor strode out of the bedroom and walked down the stairs carefully. Who would be knocking on his door at this time of the day? He barely had any guests aside from a visit by Lethbridge and his children once and that was it.

The Doctor fixed his shirt by looking in the mirror in the hallway before answering the door. His eyes widened as he saw the person who was standing right in front of him.

"I like the glasses. It gives you more of a genius look," Clara complimented, a smile playing on her lips.

Before he knew it, Clara launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug, careful not to cause any pain.

He wrapped his arms around her slowly, baffled, and said, "Clara?"

His puzzled face slowly changed into that of joy. He pulled away, grinning from ear to ear.

"Come in," the Doctor then stepped aside to allow her to step inside. "What brings you here? Not that I'm not thrilled that you are here."

"Well, you left your pocket watch so someone had to return it to you," she replied as they entered the living room. Setting her suitcase down on the floor, Clara handed him the pocket watch she had been holding on to.

John smiled at the small object resting in the palm of his hand. "I take it you read the engraving at the back?" he said and pocketed the watch in his pants.

Clara merely nodded, looking around the house. "It is one of the most beautiful timepieces I've ever seen."

"You could have just posted watch instead of going through the trouble of returning it back to me in person. Would you like a drink?"

"Where's the fun in that? And no, I'm good," she stated mischievously. "Besides, someone has to check up on you."

The living room was very basic to say the least. No pictures or portraits – just a sofa, recliner chair and a coffee table. She had expected seeing something like this, considering the Doctor wasn't one that cared too much about décor.

His eyes followed her as she walked around the living room, inspecting the book shelf in one corner. Most of the books stored there were all Mathematical books or topics related to it.

"I do apologise about the condition of the house, probably barren and boring compared to your place," he murmured.

Clara's full attention was finally on him. "Well, it could use some decorating, Doctor but the house clearly screams you."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Believe me, it is," she said, looking up at him as he was obviously towering over her small figure. "How are you managing your health, by the way?"

His smile dropped and he let out a nervous laugh, coupled with a look that was clearly guilt.

"Doctor…" it sounded more like warning than concern as she called out his name. Clara crossed her arms, patiently waiting for the Doctor to confess as if he was a child who had just broken a vase. "I'm waiting."

"Alright, fine. Just… stop inflating your eyes," he grumbled. John licked his lips and decided to just tell her the truth. "The pain is still very much noticeable… I wasn't able to go to work last week and it is still aching right now… but it's not so bad anymore."

Clara shook her head in disbelief. "You're an idiot. Sit down. I'll see what I can find in the kitchen," she then looked around before asking, "Where is the kitchen?"

"Straight to your left."

"Right, stay there."

Entering the kitchen, Clara cringed. While it was spotless, just like the living room, it didn't feel or look like a kitchen. The only food she could spot was a loaf of bread on the counter. It was no wonder he was so thin. Rummaging through the cupboards, she found a bowl and a fresh set of hand towels. They would have to do.

"Where are you lodging, by the way?" she heard the Doctor ask.

"At an inn – Williams Inn. I'm checking in in an hour," she replied, filling the kettle with water before placing it on the stove, heating it up.

Once the water had boiled, Clara poured some into the bowl and returned to the living room. The Doctor was still seated on the sofa.

"You could stay here if you want – saves you the cost of lodging at an inn," he suggested. "I have two guest rooms but one is being used for storage."

As much as she would love to stay with the Doctor, she didn't want to trouble him. "I will think about it."

"Well, the least you can do is have dinner with me," he said as took the bowl and towel from her. "I can do this myself, thank you."

Clara burst out laughing at his sudden show of independence.

"What exactly is so funny, Miss Oswald?" he asked her, unbuttoning the last three buttons of his white shirt before pressing the towel against the yellow bruise.

"Nothing, Professor Smith and I would love to have dinner with you but I doubt it's a good idea to go out with your current condition – I'll just cook something."

He was about to protest, insisting that he was more than capable of going out but the look on her face silenced him.

What a control freak. "Yes, boss."

"Good," she said and sat next to him, kissing his cheek. "I will go out to the market to buy some groceries. We don't have anything in the kitchen except for bread and strawberry spread."

"I can-" he got the look again and so, he sank deeper into the sofa, grumbling, "I will stay here."

And that was exactly what the Doctor did. He waited an hour for her to return from the market. When she did, she was holding two large paper bags.

"Please tell me you didn't buy the whole market," John joked.

"Am I supposed to find that amusing?" she questioned, placing the groceries on the pantry as the Doctor followed her.

"The fact that you are smiling says so."

Dinner consisted of meat and vegetables, something the Doctor rarely had since he couldn't be bothered with cooking. They had, for the most part, made small talk regarding their childhood mischiefs. With dinner finished, the Doctor insisted on helping with cleaning the dishes.

As he was storing the plates and silverware back into the cupboard, a knock came from the front door.

"Clara, could you answer the door for me?"

"I'm doing just that," she replied and opened the door.

The barrel of a small gun greeted her.

"Hello! Is the Doctor in?" a woman with a Scottish accent chimed with a smile on her face.

Clara was too shocked to say anything and so, she slowly moved backwards until they were in the living room. "My, my, the house looks huge from the inside!"

"Clara, who is it?" John called from the kitchen.

When he didn't get an answer, he entered the living room and was greeted by the sight of a woman pointing a gun at his Clara, the attacker's back facing him.

The Doctor scowled. "What do you want?" he asked coldly.

Missy merely chuckled. "Someone wants you dead," she said and turned around, pointing the gun at him.

Her smile immediately disappeared when she saw John's face. Her facial expression was that of shock and confusion. "It's you… You probably don't remember me but I remember you."


	13. Chapter 13

**37 Years Ago, Glasgow, Scotland**

John Smith wasn't a fan of attending social events. If he could be honest with his father, he would have told him he hated mingling with rich snobs, especially those of his age. They acted as if they were the ones who earned money instead of their parents and it only made the 14 year old hate spoiled rich snobs even more.

When his parents had asked him to attend an event with them, he had to fake suffering from stomach cramps, knowing full well on that if he wasn't sick, his father would have forced him to go regardless of how much he didn't want to.

He had to pretend being ill in bed and when his father saw his 'sick' condition, he had no choice but to accept defeat, leaving John alone with his mother where he immediately stopped pretending.

They had shared a laugh together and his mother caressed his hair, telling him to behave while they were gone for a couple of hours. She had told that if he needed anything, the maids, butlers and cook were downstairs. John simply nodded and his mother kissed his forehead before leaving.

As soon as the teenager heard the carriage leave the compound, John threw away the covers and ran out of his room, nearly bumping into one of the maids.

"Master John! You are not supposed to be running!" the maid scolded, laughing at the same time, since the boy was so full of energy.

"Sorry!" he said, slowing down his pace before taking the stairs to the kitchen.

"Well, well, if it isn't the boy who's always pretending to be sick so he could get out of attending boring parties," the cook exclaimed, peeling some fruits. "What can I help you with?"

"I'd like a light snack, please," John requested. "I'm planning to go through some Mathematical problems tonight so a light snack should be sufficient."

The cook pondered over what to cook for the young man. "Will a sandwich do, Mathematical Genius?"

"Yes, I'd like that very much. I'll be back soon - just need to get some books from the library. **"**

Without another word, the 14 year old disappeared out of the kitchen, heading towards the library. Once he collected the necessary books, John went back to the kitchen to get his sandwich.

"Right, here you are, one turkey sandwich," the cook said handed over the plate to the young man.

"Thank you."

"If you need me, John, I'll be outside in the garden. Been cooped up in the kitchen for too long. I think some fresh air might do me good."

"Alright," was all John said as he carried the plate in one hand and several books in the other.

Dashing up the stairs, he passed the hallway and entered his room, kicking the door open before closing it with his shoulder.

Placing the plate of sandwich and books on the desk, he lit an extra candle and began his work.

As he was writing down the solution for one of the many problems he was going through, he heard the cook bellow from downstairs.

"There's a thief in the mansion! The food's been stolen!"

He set his pencil down and furrowed his brows. A thief? At this time of night? And one in his home? He rose from his chair and slowly opened his door to see some of the maids running downstairs.

"Master John, stay in your room and lock the door. We don't want you to get hurt," one them ordered. He shut the door and waited until the footsteps died before he stepped out into the hallway.

John could hear people talking and running about.

"Where did the thief go?"

"I'm sure it was a girl and she ran into Sir Smith's study."

"Has anyone notified the police?"

Suddenly, he heard a strange noise coming from one of the rooms and it caught his attention, as well as curiosity. John looked back downstairs, debating whether to get someone upstairs or not. Maybe it was just his imagination and nothing more. That must be it. Despite his reasoning, the 14 year old's legs seemed to have moved by itself.

He stopped in front of a door, took a deep breath and slowly opened it.

He had expected to see a scary looking man jump towards him or at least a beast but no, it was merely a girl no older than him, probably younger. She looked terrified, on the verge of tears even, as she held a sack in her hands.

They stared at each other before John spoke. "I'm assuming you are the one who has been causing the ruckus downstairs," he stated, almost in a whisper.

The girl said nothing, still terrified that he might hurt her.

He glanced out the door before looking back at her, unsure of what to do or say. The girl looked thin, very thin and tired as if she hadn't had a decent meal in days. He felt sorry for her and began to understand why she had stolen food from the kitchen.

"It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you," he said gently.

"I'm sorry…" uttered the girl, trying to hold back the tears.

"No, it's alright. I'm not mad, see," he said and pointed at his face, giving her a smile.

Again, the terrified girl said nothing, holding the sack tightly in her hands.

"You can keep the food. I don't mind."

He heard people shouting downstairs and realized it made the girl even more scared. John knew that if they ever found out about the thief hiding in the laundry room, they would surely hand her over to the police and make things worse for the girl.

"Would you like to talk in my room? Nobody will look for us there."

Slowly, the girl nodded and stood up, clutching the bag of food tightly to her as if her life depended on it.

"Ok, but we have to be quiet," he whispered and stuck out his head, checking to see if anybody was passing by the hallway. When the coast was clear, the two children dashed out and sprinted into John's room.

He shut the door as soon as the girl got in.

Now what?

"So," he began. "What is your name?"

The girl stared at him with uncertainty, silent as a mouse.

"Ok, I guess I can introduce myself first – I'm John."

After a few moments, the girl spoke. "Missy. My name is Missy."

"Missy? I've never heard that name before."

Missy sniffed, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her worn out clothes. "That is what my mother calls me."

"I think it's a unique name. Mine's boring, typical 'John'."

She finally cracked a shy smile, finding his self-mockery funny.

Just as he was about to crack another joke, he heard one of the butlers calling his name.

"John?! John!"

The young man unlocked the door and shouted from the corridor. "Yes?!"

"Are you alright, sir?" the butler asked from the stairs.

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied.

The butler let out a sigh of a relief. "I was worried for a second there since I kept calling your name but you didn't answer."

"Sorry, I was told to stay inside my room and lock the door."

"Alright. Do call me if you anything comes up," he said before running back downstairs.

John waited for the sound of his footsteps to die before shutting the door. He looked back and saw the girl was gone, the window wide open.

Missy had run off while he was distracted. He looked out the window and a saw a small shape running into the forest, eventually blending in with the night.

Both had thought that they would never cross paths again since that night but, they were proven wrong 37 years later.

* * *

Did anybody expect the plot twist? Let me know :D


	14. Chapter 14

Missy eventually cracked a smile when she recalled that fateful night of when she had broken into of what she had thought was a random mansion. It turned out to be not so random when she encountered the Doctor. He had been one of the very few people who treated her like a human being instead of a common peasant.

She saw the look of recognition on his face and grinned, gun still pointed at him. "You're starting to remember that fateful night, aren't you?"

"Doctor, what's going on?" Clara asked, feeling confused that the two know each other.

"Don't worry, poppet, your boyfriend and I go way back!" she exclaimed and saw the shocked look on her face. Missy rolled her eyes. "Not that kinda history, dear. Honestly, what is it with you young people?"

The Doctor could still remember the encounter with Missy clearly. That was the first time anybody had broken into his parents' home, how could he forget? The image of a terrified girl hiding in the laundry room was burned into his mind and in a way, he felt sorry for her. From a petty thief, she became a murderer. He had never imagined that they would meet again under such a threatening situation.

"Missy," he uttered the name from memory.

"10 points for Professor Smith for remembering me!" she said in a false excited tone. "You haven't changed much, Doctor aside from aging, and you still got the attack eyebrows I see! That was what made me recognise you!"

John pursed his lips. "Attack eyebrows?"

Missy sighed dramatically. "Do I have to explain everything – yes your eyebrows, they have this 'I'm going to kill you' look to them. You did just that a minute ago. Pretty useful if you wanna scare people."

The Doctor and Clara exchanged looks, baffled by the intruder and possible murderer. Missy clearly sounded like an escaped patient from an asylum.

"You didn't happen to end up in an asylum, did you?" he asked warily. How did she end up becoming slightly mentally unstable?

"What if I did?" she retorted before bursting into laughter, swaying the small gun. "No, in all seriousness, Doctor, I did not end up in an asylum but I will admit that I am a bit of a looney."

"Please don't kill the Doctor," Clara pleaded out of the blue.

"Clara, please, I can handle this."

Missy glanced at Clara before looking back at the Doctor. The girlfriend was someone she did not expect too see and her target turning out to be someone who had spared her from being handed over to the police in her childhood was even more of a shocker.

The Doctor stood in the barrel's line of sight, unafraid. He had always been brave ever since he was a child. Tonight was no different. Through out Missy's criminal career, she had seen grown men beg and cry for their lives but the Doctor did not. He wasn't scared of dying. He wasn't even scared of her. She didn't see the Doctor. She saw a boy attempting to comfort her.

She had a choice. She could fulfill her contract and report back to Rassilon after successfully killing the Doctor… or she could spare him as he had to her 37 years ago. The image of a young Doctor attempting to make her laugh played in her mind. A decision had been made. Sometimes, she hated being human.

Missy lowered her weapon. A look of relief washed over Clara's face but the Doctor's expression remained neutral.

"Nice place you got here. Maybe the girlfriend," she said and nodded her head at Clara "… could help decorate a bit. Seems a bit boring if you ask me."

She gave John a smile. "Anyway, I'd better be off. Do keep an eye out on a certain professor, Doctor," she curtsied before casually walking out of the living room and eventually, they heard the door open and shut.

As soon as Missy left, the Doctor embraced Clara, comforting her as she gasped, looking as if she was about to go into shock. She gripped his shirt and closed her eyes tightly.

"Clara," the Doctor called her name gently. "Clara," he repeated and cupped her face with both his hands. "Look at me, look at me."

She obeyed and looked into his eyes. She had trouble accepting what had just occurred as she felt as if it was all crashing down on her. The Doctor could have died but he was spared because he had some sort of history with Missy.

Clara was glad he didn't die or get injured. Who knows what might have happened if Missy had pulled the trigger. She couldn't imagine such a gruesome thing.

She heard the Doctor talking to her but the words were muffled. Clara stared at him blankly before getting on her toes and meeting her lips with his, silencing him.

He went rigid when she kissed him at first, but gradually relaxed as she wrapped her arms around his neck and when he was able to taste her. Her lips were so soft and warm. A moan of approval resounded from him.

They pulled away at last with the Doctor giving her a confused but amazed look. "I'm so glad you're alive," Clara murmured as she pulled him in and their lips met again.

This time, John had to crane his neck a bit as his height made it difficult for him to kiss her properly.

She could feel him smiling as their lips parted and it made her feel as is her heart would explode. The dangerous situation they were in made Clara realized now more than ever, that she was head over heels in love with the Doctor. The only thing she could think about was his well being when Missy pointed the pistol at him.

Eventually, they parted, both slightly out of breath, smiling. "Clara, my Clara," he whispered, chanting her name, caressing her face. "Stay with me."

She didn't need him to say more. Those three words melted her heart and so, she nodded.

"Wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world but here."

The Doctor kissed her temple, nose and finally, her lips. He lifted her up and lied her down on the sofa, his body pressing against her as her legs wrapped around his waist. The pain from his body was completely forgotten as adrenaline was pumping through his veins.

He pulled away suddenly, causing confusion within Clara. "Bedroom?" he asked. "I don't think the sofa is a comfortable place to… um… well, you know," he laughed.

"Bedroom sounds good," she replied, grinning.

The Doctor lifted her off from the sofa and carried her.

"Doctor! You're not supposed to be carrying me!" she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her up the stairs. She placed her head against his chest and heard the beating of his heart.

"I'm doing it right now so it's too late to put you down," he said and pushed the master bedroom door open with his foot.

The Doctor slowly laid Clara on the mattress before climbing on top of her, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hello, Clara Oswald."

"Hello, Doctor," she whispered and placed a hand on his cheek before lifting her head to kiss him.

They spent the night in each other's company, making love and eventually, falling asleep together, in a tangled mess of sheets and limbs.

* * *

*Fans myself* Looks like the moment people have been waiting for is here! XD


	15. Chapter 15

Light streamed through the thin curtains, giving the master bedroom some illumination, indicating that the sun was up and morning had come again.

Professor John Smith had never felt so happy and complete when he woke up. And not to mention, young, as if he was full of energy again. The atmosphere was quiet and cool, making him smile as he scooted closer to the sleeping figure next to him, wrapping an arm around her and buried his nose into her hair.

He couldn't believe how much of a roller coaster his life had been the past two months. The meeting with Clara seemed too good to be true. John felt as if he was the luckiest man in the whole universe to be able to love a woman like Clara Oswald.

The Doctor caressed Clara's arm slowly, as he took in the scent of her shampoo which smelled like strawberry. Moments later, he lifted his head and left tiny kisses on her bare shoulder before moving over to her spine. He heard a giggle coming from her.

"How long have you been awake?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Long enough," she answered and rolled over, facing him. Her eyes were full of nothing but adoration and love. "Did you sleep well?"

He grinned at her question. "Well, somebody kept me up all night last night."

"Oh, you poor thing," Clara said mockingly and kissed his pale chest, trailing down until she saw the yellow bruise before kissing it as well. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He moaned at the contact of her lips against his skin. "I don't know, Clara. What do you think?"

Clara climbed on top of him, a mischievous look on her face. "I do have a few ideas in mind," she whispered, hand trailing underneath the sheets.

An hour later, the couple were having breakfast in bed with Clara wearing the Doctor's shirt that was far too big for her. The two would exchange cheeky glances, stealing the other's food every now and then.

The Doctor stole some eggs from Clara's plate and grinned at her as he had already finished his meal.

"That's mean, Doctor. I will poke you if you steal my eggs again," she warned jokingly and before she knew it, he stole more of her food, causing her to laugh. She eventually finished her meal and set their plates down on the floor.

"Do you have any plans for today?" John asked as he wrapped one arm around Clara, bringing her closer to him and running his fingers through her hair.

"No, not really. I came here to give you your watch but I've always wanted to see what Cambridge is like," she replied, resting her head on his shoulder and intertwining her fingers with his.

"I can show you around," the Doctor piped. "And yes, I am absolutely more than capable of walking around."

Clara pondered for a moment before she squeezed his hand. "I'd like that very much."

The couple spent the rest of the day touring all around the university town, from the university botanical garden to walking by the river. Both were having a wonderful time with each other and at the end of the day, Clara was glad she decided to deliver the Doctor's timepiece herself. She would have missed out on a lot of things if she hadn't.

The Doctor was just as happy, given that he was finally able to go out for other reasons aside from going to work and those other reasons were Clara Oswald and spending time with her. He was thankful to have left his cherished pocket watch in her flat by accident. If it wasn't for that small mistake, he would have spent the weekend alone, feeling miserable and old.

 **Three Months Later, Gallifrey Restaurant, Cambridge**

When Professor Rassilon had told Missy to take her sweet time planning the Doctor's murder, he didn't expect her to take longer than two months. He decided to wait another month before his patience finally ran out and he called for a meeting at his favourite restaurant.

The current vice-chancellor would announce his successor in two months and Rassilon knew that the Doctor had secured his position as the next vice-chancellor, even if he didn't know it yet. The last thing he wanted to see was women flocking the university and that would be an utter disgrace to such a prestigious institution.

He would ensure that the reputation of the university would be intact and preserved by preventing its entry requirement from being abolished.

However, that wasn't the only reason why he wanted the Doctor dead. He was sure that the Doctor would find out his crime of stealing funds from the university. It was bad enough the current vice-chancellor found out and Rassilon had to blackmail him by threatening to kill his family if he didn't keep his mouth shut. It was a shame – he saw the vice-chancellor as a friend but things ended up being in a mess when the cat got out of the bag.

He stirred his tea and checked his pocket watch, waiting for Missy to arrive and after five minutes, he saw her approaching his table but again, she did not sit by the same table. Just like last time, she chose one next to Rassilon.

"So, why did you call this meeting?" she asked casually before a waiter appeared and handed her a menu. She browsed through the selection of foods and drinks available before ordering a pot of tea.

Once the waiter left, Rassilon spoke, almost in a whisper. "Is there a good reason why you are taking so long fulfilling your contract?"

Missy pulled out her compact mirror and lipstick. "Well," she said and applied the lipstick. "I've told you before that it takes time. We have underestimated the Doctor once. A second time would make me look like a fool."

Rassilon studied her from the corner of his eye as she put her makeup away. She was acting suspicious and he had had the feeling since a month ago when she refused to meet him, claiming that she was swamped with other contracts to fulfil.

Another waiter came by her table and served Missy her tea.

"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought you didn't want to kill the Doctor, Missy," Rassilon accused calmly, testing the water to see her reaction.

She had to react appropriately to his accusation or he would be able to spot an inconsistency, giving her away. "Really? What makes you say that, Professor Rassilon?" she stated, bringing the cup to her lips.

"You see," he began and stashed the brown notebook in his briefcase. "You avoided me when I called for a meeting and I've never heard you take this long to kill someone."

She laughed. "I've told you before that underestimating the Doctor is a dangerous move and I do have other clients to work with. The list is getting longer and longer."

Rassilon concluded that she must be telling the truth. She didn't twitch or act in an unusual manner that would indicate she was lying. "Very well then. Because of your tardiness, I have no choice but to change the plan."

"Do elaborate."

"The next vice chancellor will be announced in two months and we are running out of time but, coincidentally, the International Research Conference is to be held in less than a month in London. The Doctor will attend the event along with several students."

"You plan to end his life during this event?" Missy asked calmly, adding some sugar to her drink.

"Yes, I plan to end his life on the night of the conference. I should be able to lure him into a trap and that is where you will come in if you wish to get the remainder of your payment," Rassilon explained.

Missy felt her heart drop as she had anticipated him to tell her to finish the job by killing the Doctor. She knew she wouldn't be able to kill the 14 year old boy who had told her, her name was unique and made her smile by mocking himself.

"And what job would that be?" she asked, trying to keep calm in hopes of not giving away her thoughts through her body language.

"I want you to kidnap his lover, Clara Oswald."


	16. Chapter 16

The Doctor was packing his clothes and all necessary items into his suitcase. The International Research Conference would start late in the afternoon and he hadn't packed properly yet. The train would leave in an hour and a half, so he had plenty of time to pack but he was far too excited to do anything else at the moment as he quickly locked the suitcase.

After three months, his ribs had healed completely and so did his eye. He looked healthy and not to mention, a lot happier than he ever had been. His happiness was also largely due to the trip to London as he had promised to see Clara once the conference was over.

Their relationship had progressed a lot since he had first met her and they were getting closer with each meeting. The last time he saw her was three weeks ago in London. He had decided to drop by without notifying her and when she saw him waiting for her at the pub, she was beyond happy, running into his arms before he twirled her around. John smiled at the memory.

Fixing his coat, the Doctor grabbed his hat and unlocked the door, stepping outside before hitting a package lying on the floor. Setting his suitcases down, he picked up the package and opened the box. Inside, there was a book. He flipped it opened and checked the contents.

His eyes widened as he realized what it was. The book held every transaction record made by Professor Rassilon via university funds. He was embezzling money from the university judging by the amount credited. The Doctor looked up, trying to see if the person who had left the document in his doorstep was still around but there was no one. He unlocked his briefcase and stored the document in there for safekeeping.

The document needed to be handed over to the police and he intended to do just that after the conference. The Doctor locked the blue door to his home and left for the train station.

When he reached the station, all three of his students were already present including Floppy Hair as they were waiting for him.

"Right, since everybody is here, I think it's a good idea to take an early train instead of waiting for another 45 minutes, wouldn't you agree?" the Doctor suggested.

The boys nodded and grabbed their suitcases, following their professor to the ticket counter.

Once they had reached London and checked in at the hotel, the Doctor made his way to Coal Hill Pub to see Clara.

Standing in front of the pub, the Doctor fixed his attire in the window with one hand before glancing at the wrapped gift he held. He had hoped Clara would love it. Pushing the door, the bell chimed and the pub owner stepped out.

"Ah, professor! So nice to see you again!" John Smith greeted.

"Hello," he said and saw that the tables were pushed to one side and chairs stacked on the other, leaving a large empty space in the middle of the room. "Will your pub be open tonight?"

"Unfortunately, no. I'm taking my wife to Brighton. She's been wanting to go there and I finally got the chance to book the trip," he replied with an excited look plastered on his face. The trip, was of course thanks to the bet John had made with his wife several months back regarding Clara and her type of men. So, technically, it was also thanks to the Doctor.

"I see – is Clara in?"

The landlord nodded. "She's upstairs."

"Thank you," he said and took the stairs to the first floor.

The Doctor knocked on her door and waited for a few seconds before it swung open with a surprised looking Clara standing in front of him. "Doctor?! You're early!" she exclaimed and embraced him.

"I took an early train with my students," he said once they parted and she stepped aside to let him in. "I got you a gift, here," he then handed her the present neatly wrapped with a bow.

Clara smiled at him as she unwrapped it. "What's the occasion?"

"Just thought I'd give you something after remembering our chat by the lake," he replied and returned her smile, waiting for her reaction.

Clara's smile never faded away as she found out what it was – a book on the introduction of Linear Algebra. "Doctor… this is incredible. I'm surprised you still remember the conversation."

"Clara Oswald, do I look like someone who can easily forget things or people? Certainly not, especially when it comes to you."

Her heart soared at his words and she felt like she couldn't love the man even more. "Thank you, Doctor. I love it and can't wait to read all about Linear Algebra," she said and gave him a quick kiss, clutching the book in her hands. "When does your conference start, by the way?"

"In an hour and I have to get going and get the boys to prepare our presentation so I will see you tonight at Osgood Restaurant," he replied before putting his hat back on.

Just as he was about to reach for the door knob, the Doctor turned back and wrapped his arms around Clara before giving her a full kiss. "I look forward to tonight," he murmured.

"Same here."

She gave him another quick peck on the lips before letting him go, watching him leave her flat. How was she blessed with such a charming dork?

The Doctor went back to the hotel to gather his students for the conference. They left the hotel via carriage and got at the venue with 45 minutes spare.

"Fl- John, I need you to set up the posters. George, read your material again. You need to explain the applications of Logic – that's the tricky bit and Wayne, help John out," The Doctor ordered as he unlocked his briefcase and saw the document. He had forgotten to hand it over to the police and due to time constraints, it had to wait.

"Fine choice of topic, Professor Smith," a voice said as he inspected the poster Floppy Hair had set up.

The Doctor closed his briefcase and glared at Rassilon. "Aren't you supposed to be preparing your Science research?"

"My students are doing all the work. I'm just dropping by to see what kind of topic your group is presenting," the professor said calmly, almost in a mocking tone. "Anyway, I had better go. Best of luck with the presentation."

John watched as Rassilon walked away from the booth, heading to his but his train of thought was disrupted by Floppy Hair.

"Sir, where should I put this poster?" he asked, holding up said item.

"On the left side over there," the Doctor uttered. "And stop calling me sir. We've talked about this."

Two hours into the conference, John was busy explaining to some visitors regarding his research when he spotted Rassilon smiling and waving at him. John gritted his teeth, anger building.

"Flop – John, could you take over the presentation for me? I need to use the men's room," he requested, causing Floppy Hair to look beyond baffled.

"Umm… ok… If you could look at this Euler-Venn diagram here…"

The Doctor left the booth and followed the professor straight to the exit. Floppy Hair, able to feel as if something wasn't right when he saw the two professors leaving, decided to follow them.

"George, please help me out here. I need to use men's room too."

Once the two professors were outside, Rassilon said, "This is your last warning, Doctor. Revert your policy."

The Doctor raised a brow and chuckled. "What makes you think I'm going to do that? Besides, I found out something very interesting about you, Rassilon."

"What would that be?"

"It now makes sense where you got your fortune from. You've been embezzling money from the university, haven't you?"

Rassilon's calm expression changed to that of shock and fear. "How did you find out?!" he growled. He then exhaled. "No matter. I doubt there's much you can do."

"What makes you say that?"

The professor smirked. "I have your lover."

The Doctor scowled and his hands balled into fists. "You're bluffing."

"Would you like to see her? She's by the River Thames bank. I told Missy to nab her at the pub."

"You bastard!" the Doctor growled and lunged forward but he stopped when Rassilon pulled a gun on him. "If you hurt Clara, I swear I'll-"

"You won't be able to do much if I pull the trigger right now."

Rassilon smiled at him. "Let's walk to the river, shall we? It's only five minutes from here."

Floppy Hair saw and heard the whole conversation from a distance, hiding in the dark. He knew he had to go to Scotland Yard to report the incident and so, he dashed off in the direction of the police headquarters.

Back at the pub, Clara was preparing for her dinner date with the Doctor when she heard knocking coming from the main entrance of the pub. The person didn't stop hammering the door until she opened it, only to be greeted by the sight of a tall stoic man. He then slumped down to the floor, dead.

"Hello!" Missy said cheerfully.

"Oh, no!" Clara snapped and immediately closed the door but it was jammed by Missy's umbrella.

"I'm not here to kill you, dear. I'm here to help you. The Doctor is in danger!"

"And why should I believe you?!" she yelled, struggling to shut the door.

"Because if I wanted you or the Doctor dead, it would have happened a long time ago, poppet," Missy explained and then pointed at the dead body. "See this man here? He was hired by Professor Stupid McStupid Face to 'assist' me but then, just a few minutes ago, he tried to kill me so I snuffed out his lights before he even had the chance of saying 'TARDIS… I'm definitely going to scratch Rassilon's eye out."

Clara finally stopped fighting and she glared at the woman. "If you are lying-"

"I'm not," she insisted in a serious, terrifying tone. "Rassilon told me that the meeting point was St James but since this guy he hired tried to kill me, I'm assuming that's not where he's going to murder your boyfriend."

Clara started to panic at the mention of the Doctor. "Then where are they?!"

Missy placed a hand on her chin as she began thinking. "Let's see now, the conference is somewhere close to Charing Cross and Charing Cross is pretty much next to River Thames where you can easily dump a dead body so I'm guessing… River Thames?"

"What are we waiting for?! Let's go!" Clara snapped as she locked the door to the pub and was about to run off when Missy stopped her.

"Poppet, I have a carriage here. It's a lot faster than running."

She immediately entered the carriage with the semi-unstable woman.

"River Thames, Seb! And step on it!" Missy yelled.

"Wee-he-he-he!" she exclaimed as the carriage began to move at a fast pace.


	17. Chapter 17

It had been apparent to Rassilon for a period of time that Missy didn't want to finish her part of the deal. They way she spoke to him back at the restaurant was too calm and calculated. There was always a spark of spontaneity when she was dealing with him but not at their final meeting. The insanity that she loved to display so much was replaced by a mask and at that moment, he knew she was hiding something.

He couldn't find anything useful about her past – not even her mother's name so the next logical step to dispose of her was to use her to his advantage, make her think he was blind to her betrayal, hence the reason why he had hired another hitman.

The hitman's job was to follow her to the pub and kill both Missy and Clara but he had miserably failed, thinking the slightly mad woman wouldn't put up a fight. Of course, Rassilon didn't know this. He had thought the Doctor's lover and new friend were dead.

True to his words, the walk to the river bank only took five minutes and when they reached there the Doctor began to frantically look around for Clara. "Clara! Clara!"

"Where is she? Where's Clara?" the Doctor demanded, anger building inside him. That was when he realized he had walked into a trap out of blind rage. "Where is she?" he asked calmly, hoping someone would drag her out or something.

Still pointing the weapon at John, Rassilon smirked. "You will join her soon."

"Tell that to my face!" the Doctor snapped and faced him. "Because if she's really dead, then you'd better choose the right words."

"She's dead, along with your new friend, Missy," the professor stated, finding it amusing when the saw the horrified and pained expression on John's face. "I knew something was wrong when Missy kept delaying your date with the reaper. I don't know what history you two share but it was clearly making things even more complicated so I had to do something about it and honestly, I hate getting my hands dirty."

The Doctor wasn't listening to anything he said, he couldn't believe Clara was dead. "And what?! All of this over the new policy?!" he demanded. He had never felt so angry and hurt in his entire life, not even when his heart was broken some 21 years ago.

"You know too much as well, Doctor. I was hoping to blackmail when you found out about my secret but then I thought, why not just kill you? It's a lot easier."

John felt as if his life force had been drained from him completely. Clara was dead and it was his fault for getting her into this mess in the first place. He couldn't even protect her. He loved her. He loved her so much and could see them together as a married couple but those dreams were now shattered, all thanks to one greedy and stupid man. The Doctor was going to kill Rassilon even if it was the last thing he did.

An image of his pocket watch suddenly flashed through his mind.

 _Do not be a Warrior – be a Doctor_

No, he wouldn't kill the man. He wasn't going to be a Warrior. He was going to be a Doctor as he had promised his mother.

The Doctor walked closer to Rassilon until the barrel of the gun was merely inches from him. "Shoot me."

A puzzled look washed over the professor's face and he loosened his grip slightly on the pistol. The Doctor took this opportunity to push his hand away in an attempt to dispose of the weapon. A gun shot was fired into the air during the struggle.

"That's very clever and stupid at the same time!" Rassilon said, trying not to loose his grip.

John punched him in the face, causing him to be temporarily winded and he dropped the weapon.

The Doctor kicked it away as hard as he could, so that it would be out of Rassilon's reach.

"Come now, I can play dirty too, Doctor."

Both men immediately engaged in a fist fight but the Doctor ended up getting the shorter end of the stick when Rassilon targeted his weakness – his ribs.

John fell to the ground, clutching the side of his body before Rassilon kicked him in the same spot. With the Doctor on the ground, writhing in pain, the professor grabbed the pistol on the ground and pointed it at him.

"This is why you don't try to be clever, Doctor. It will only you into trouble," he uttered and squeezed his finger on the trigger.

A gun shot echoed through the area.

Rassilon's sarcastic smile dropped before the pistol slipped from his hand and he slumped to the ground. A bullet had pierced through his back.

The Doctor looked around and saw Missy with a smoking gun. Clara was running down the wooden stairs.

"Clara? Clara!" he yelled and forced himself to get up, clutching his ribs.

"Doctor!" she called out his name.

The Doctor ran towards her before embracing her in a fierce hug, lifting her off the ground and twirling her around.

"Let's forget about the person who saved you both, right?" Missy uttered in a bored tone but a smile was plastered on her face.

He set the woman of his life down and looked up at Missy. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Doctor. I don't do this goody two shoe thing."

John looked back at Clara, unable to prevent himself from smiling despite the fact his body was aching. "I'm so glad you're alive. Rassilon told me you were dead!" he stated and cupped her face with both his hands. "Clara, my Clara," he whispered before capturing her lips.

At the sight of the public display of affection, Missy cringed. "Geeeeet a roooooooooom!"

They parted and laughed, both red faced at the teasing but when they looked up again, Missy was gone. The couple then saw several police officers running down the staircase from the other side of the bank.

"Oh what a shame Rassilon is dead," Floppy Hair said as he inspected the dead body.

"Floppy – I mean, John, what are you doing here?" the Doctor asked, confused that his student was examining Rassilon's dead body. None of the police officers stopped him.

"Hello, Doctor! I'm actually with Special Branch," he explained. "We received a report six months ago that Professor Rassilon was suspected of using university funds for his own personal gain so Scotland Yard sent me to Cambridge as a spy. We were going to bring him in after the conference after gathering enough evidence to have him questioned but it seems he's… permanently sleeping. What happened?"

"He and the Doctor were struggling when I heard a gun shot. I'm not sure where it came from but the next thing I knew, the professor was dead," Clara explained, almost shocking the Doctor. It was the least she could do after Missy saved them both.

"And how did you get here, Miss…"

"Oswald. Clara Oswald – I… ran."

Floppy Hair raised a brow. "And how did you know your… friend would be in trouble?"

"Someone came to the pub and told me the Doctor was in danger. There was even a man who tried to kill me… but the same person stopped him…"

"Wait a minute," the Doctor interjected, tired of the questions. "Rassilon was a Professor of Chemistry."

Floppy Hair gave them a sheepish look. "There was a slight mix-up during the registration process so I inadvertently ended up taking your classes."

"So your name isn't John Smith I presume," the Doctor said as he felt Clara reach for his hand and squeezed it.

"No. That was just an undercover name. My real name is classified."

At that moment, a short and plump officer approached them. "Inspector Basil!"

The inspector forced a smile. "Excuse me, for one moment," he muttered before approaching the officer. "Strax, we've talked about this! You are not supposed to be calling me that in public! See, this is why you are the potato one and I am the smart one."

"But sir, how am I supposed to address you?"

The Doctor and Clara chuckled at their conversation.

"Doctor," she said, staring at the half constructed London Bridge. She still held his hand.

"Yes?" he answered, staring at her with love.

"What now?"

He pondered for a moment. There was no way they would be able to make it Osgood Restaurant in time and he still had to hand over the transaction documents over to the police but, the biggest mystery was, who sent it to him? Missy? Maybe it was her way of warning him? He could think about that later.

"Dinner at your place? I may need someone to nurse me back to health after Rassilon kicked me in the ribs."

Clara's widened as she had forgotten all about his injured ribs. "Oh, no! I didn't hug you too tightly did I?"

John chuckled at her concern. "No, Clara. I'm fine."

"Well, nothing like a good bath wouldn't be able to relax your muscles," she suggested and winked at him.

After they had given their statements to the police while keeping Missy's identity a secret, informing them about the dead hitman in front of the pub and the Doctor informing Floppy Hair someone had sent him records of Rassilon's embezzlement, the couple retreated back to Clara's flat.

"I love you, Doctor," Clara declared as her back leaned against his bare chest. The couple were in the bath tub after she had suggested the Doctor clean to himself up from the mud and dirt.

The Doctor, who was busy kissing her shoulder, stopped. He was taken back by her sudden declaration of love. "Clara, oh Clara Oswald," he whispered to her ear and wrapped his arms around her. "You have absolutely no idea how much you mean to me. I would destroy the universe if it meant being with you."

The Doctor and Clara Oswald spent the rest of the evening in each other's company, happy and relieved that the nightmare was over for good. Nobody would hurt them anymore.

* * *

The epilogue will come up next!


	18. Chapter 18

**Five Years Later…**

Cambridge had been snowing lightly for the past few days but by the end of the week, the university town was covered with thick snow. It prompted people to wear an extra layer of clothing to keep them warm.

When the sun rose from the horizon one Saturday morning, some of the thick snow melted away, leaving just enough for people to walk around without getting stuck or suffering difficulties. It made it a nice day to go out and get some fresh air, despite snow covering the streets.

The Doctor's home from the exterior hadn't changed. The blue door was still blue and it still had the 'smaller on the outside' look to it. The interior of the house however, had a massive change since four years ago. The living room was no longer empty and dull. New furniture replaced the old ones and there were several portraits hanging on the wall. The same can be said for the kitchen. The pantry was stocked with food and it just looked like an actual kitchen rather than a surgery room.

His home just seemed more like home.

It was around eight in the morning when the door to the master bedroom slowly creaked open and a small figure stepped inside. The mattress was currently occupied by two sleeping figures who were spooned together with a duvet covering them both.

The small figure walked around the bed but stepped on a pile of clothes halfway through, confusing him. "Mummy," the boy whispered to his sleeping mother. "Mummy," he repeated and saw her stir.

"Yes, Malcolm?" she said sleepily, eyes still closed. She had always wondered how her son was such an early bird.

"Why are your clothes on the floor?" he asked, puzzled. "And why are you and Daddy not wearing any?"

Her son's questions made Clara snap her eyes open in a state of panic. She didn't move as her husband's arms were wrapped around her and was thankful that the duvet covered most of her body but it only covered up to the Doctor's torso. How was she going to explain to her son why there were clothes strewn on the floor?

"Ummm… it was hot last night," she lied and knew it was a terrible one. How can it be hot when it was clearly snowing outside? The again, she and her husband were busy with an activity that made their bodies warmer so it was only half a lie.

The four year old boy, Malcolm, still looked confused but he decided to change the subject, immediately becoming disinterested in the mystery of his parents' clothes on the floor. "Can I go out? I want to build a snowman."

"Yes, when your father wakes up," Clara giggled. "He's a bit tired."

"Why is he tired?" he questioned, sounding slightly upset.

Clara's face fell. "He was… well, working out." She could feel the Doctor stirring next to her at the mention of his name. "Doctor, someone wants to play outside," she said gently, rubbing his arm.

"Hmm, five more minutes," he replied hoarsely, too lazy to move as he didn't bother freeing his wife from his embrace. "We will go out when I'm fully awake, Malcolm. Just do something else first."

"But I have already finished reading the book about Linear Al… Algeba… Algebra."

The Doctor snapped his eyes open, surprised that his son finished the book so quickly. He lifted his head from the pillow. "You've finished it, already?"

"Yes," the boy answered as he had finished the book his father had given him a week ago. "I finished the book this morning after I woke up."

The Doctor exchanged looks with his wife. "So which one do you like more? Pre-Calculus or Algebra?"

Their son gave them a huge smile before saying, "Calculus!"

The Doctor and Clara found out that their son was a gifted child about year ago when he solved one of his father's exam paper that was being compiled. John was beyond thrilled and elated when he found out his son was a genius and Clara couldn't have been prouder. The two boys in her life were Mathematical geniuses.

"Great, I guess we can move on to derivatives next," he told his son and the boy's smile grew wider. "Now go and wait downstairs. I will be with you when I'm with you."

Malcolm's parents' smiles never faded as they watched their son run of the room, full of joy. The boy was the spitting image of his father, from the nose, eyebrows and even hair but he had Clara's eyes.

"He's so full on energy. I wonder where he gets it from," Clara said suggestively.

The couple were still lying in bed, taking their sweet time.

"Are you implying something, Mrs Smith?" her husband asked, giving her a kiss.

"Yes, have you seen how you look like whenever you are able to solve one of your Maths problems?" she asked.

"Like father like son," the Doctor justified as he threw away the covers and collected his clothes.

Clara stayed in bed and stared at her husband as he began to dress. They had been married for five years and blessed with a genius son after a year into their marriage. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to be able to love them.

"Are you coming with us?" he asked, buttoning his shirt.

"I will be with you shortly," she said as he kissed her temple.

"Malcolm Oswald-Smith!" the Doctor called as he walked out the room. "Are you ready to be build some snowmen?"

John spent the morning with his son building snowmen around the house. Clara joined them shortly after but she stood on the steps, watching her two boys.

"I think the radius of the head should be smaller, Daddy," Malcolm said as he examined the snowman's head as it was slightly big.

"I think you are right, Malcolm," the Doctor said as he made another head for the snowman. "We can use the big one for something else."

"Don't stay outside for too long you two. I'll call you when breakfast is ready," Clara said before stepping inside, greeted by the warmth of the house unable to stop herself from smiling.

The Doctor spent the rest of the day teaching his son all about derivatives when he had requested it. Clara on the other hand, made the decision to spend her time baking some soufflé and clean up her husband's study.

By night time, Malcolm was on the verge of falling asleep as his mother tucked him into bed. "Mummy," he said sleepily as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"Yes, Malcolm?"

"Kate and Mariama told me that you used to tell them the story about this man who lives on a cloud," her son explained. "Can you tell me that story?"

The Doctor stood by the corridor, smiling at his family as Clara began the story about the man who lived in the clouds. He then decided to join in and sat on the other end of the bed.

"Once upon a time, there lived a man high up in the clouds in a big blue box. He decided to live in isolation after losing his friends, heartbroken that he would never see them again but one day, he decided to have a stroll around London. Unknown to him, his action brought him to meet a woman who would eventually become his companion…"

* * *

Am I the only one who feels like crying? Gosh, the emotions that I felt when writing this is just... *blows nose*.

Right, thank you so much for reading! Thank you, and I say this from the bottom of my heart.

I appreciate every single comment left for this story. You have no idea how much they make me smile. The comments are the reason why I was able to update so quickly!

Also, to the guest reviewers, I wish I could reply to your reviews personally but I can't so thank you for your amazing support! To those who have accounts, well, you know that I reply to your comments personally! ;)

Your awesome and fantastic (hehe) support is greatly and highly valued! :)


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